


Loud Like Love

by Hitsugi_Zirkus



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anxiety, Attempt at Humor, Body Image, Crossdressing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/Hitsugi_Zirkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Music has been what's gotten Clear through the friendless years, and his singing has led him to get accepted into Platinum Jail's Academy of Performing Arts' stage. His days are slowly starting to fill up with friends despite his insecurities, but the shy Ren whose hands tremble so much and the outgoing Aoba, who's face keeps conjuring up someone else from Clear's memory, remain at the forefront of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Track 01: This Whole Wide World

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo guys and welcome to my first official series for DRAMAtical Murder! It is of the Clearenaos, and ofc you can thank the wonderful Samus not only for introducing the OT3 to me, but also helping me out when I was still planning this fic. Much love, Sammy -praises- 
> 
> I'm like. HELLA nervous to finally get this out considering I've been fiddling with it since November for my Nanowrimo and so I'm pretty attached to it. At the moment I've got 7 chapters written including this one so we'll see how pacing goes for updates. Anyway, it's my hope that y'all will enjoy this -bows-

The feeling of that day was something that Clear kept in his heart for years afterward.

The dark theater, the light and music of the stage reflecting in his wide, pink eyes. He was small then, his feet just barely able to touch the floor. The twins were even younger, tiny and wild even when they were forced to be separated - Al sitting with Clear and Phi with Grandpa. For once though, Clear put keeping his brothers in line second in favor of watching the glamour and enchantment on stage.

Only vaguely could Clear dig up the memory of the days before that led up to Grandpa proposing that he take them all to see the musical that was being performed in town. Up until the actual day, Clear was fidgeting with anticipation. Once actually inside the theater though, Clear sat rooted to his seat the entire time, marveling at the twirl and arch of dancing, the colors and sparkle of the stage, and the melodies that made him giddy with a magical sort of bliss.

“One day,” he proudly proclaimed over the twins’ bickering on the ride home, “one day I would like to go up there and sing and dance too, Grandpa! I want to dress up and be just like the people on the stage.”

Grandpa was a kind man, and always gently held Clear’s hand. He was the type to play with them and always smile, and offer to take them to the park or the lakeside where Clear always sat at the edge to beckon swimming ducks to him before his brothers chased them off. Every one of Clear’s childish fantasies and dreams were things Grandpa indulged him in, and this time was no different. He smiled at Clear in the rearview mirror, as if that was what he was hoping Clear would say.

“I’m sure you’d be able to do it,” he said. “I look forward to be able to see you up there one day.”

Clear grinned, tapping his feet together as he looked out the window. The musical was still going on before his eyes, and he imagined himself being able to sing and be someone else on a stage all lit up like the sun’s reflection on the lake. He wanted to dance, be a part of a fairytale story, dress up in the bright, flowery skirts and glitter and soot that he hoped would make him just as stunning to look at as the actors - stunning enough that no one would pay attention to the discolorations on his skin.

Blinking up at the fluff of clouds above him, Clear started swaying. “Chim chimney, chim chimney, chim chim cher-ee…”

* * *

_Bzz bzz_.

Clear felt the vibration right next to ear. Both he and his phone were laying motionless on his bed, and his ankles were propped up and crossed on his now bare wall. Opening his eyes to it just reminded him how empty his whole room was now. Up until the buzzing, he’d been daydreaming to forget about that.

He picked his phone up, seeing the notification for a new text message, unsurprised when it was from his soon-to-be roommate, Noiz. Although he was a little anxious when they first exchanged information to talk, Clear was hopeful that they could be friends. Their conversations now, albeit formal and detached, were pleasant enough to keep that hope kindled.

_here. when will u b over_

_we’ll be leaving any minute now (*´・ｖ・)_

_ok. hey i kinda got a lot of shit do u mind if i take the side w the cabinet_

Oh, that was right, Noiz dealt with a lot of technology, didn’t he? He had mentioned it off-handedly - something about recording equipment. Clear couldn’t even begin to try and figure that stuff out since the only things he was bringing to their dorm room were his clothes, a few miscellaneous possessions and well, his voice, and he didn’t exactly need to store the latter anywhere.

_i don’t mind! please help yourself! ⊂((・▽・))⊃_

_ok thx. c u_

_yes! see you later! (≧∇≦)/_

Clear smiled a bit, feeling better after talking with Noiz. He didn’t seem particularly open or friendly, but so far he hadn’t said anything bad to Clear. Of course, he also hadn’t seen Clear’s face yet. Most roommates had probably already swapped Facebook information and the like, but Clear didn’t have any social media accounts. Who would he talk to? He was more of a face-to-face person anyway, despite his insecurities. Just texting and phone calls would suffice in his situation.

Pocketing his phone, Clear closed his eyes again with a deep breath. Today he was leaving his home with Grandpa and the twins to live in a dormitory. Then in another two days, he’d start his first day as a college freshman.

To be honest, the thought made him fidget in anxiety, but he tried to remain as optimistic as Grandpa raised him to be. Maybe he’d have fun in college, like in the movies. Then again, he knew from experience that they didn’t even really portray high school all that accurately. It could be chalked up to a lack of a social circle though that made his high school years feel pretty lackluster. Sure, he had some acquaintances, but none that would miss him. None that he shared phone numbers with or insisted on going as a group to dances or took pictures with during graduation.

And then, maybe in college, no one would care about the discoloration on his skin or would question why he so enthusiastically complimented girls on their skirts and dresses. Platinum Jail’s Academy of Performing Arts boasted on their site to be a very diverse school, after all.

Well. As long as there was a place where he could sing freely, Clear supposed it would be fine then. Four years of high school gone and another few of college to go.

All of his belongings but one were stuffed into boxes. That cut of white cloth was something that was stuffed in his pocket, away from Grandpa’s concerned gaze. It felt normal to wear it at home at first, but the safe contentedness started turning into guilt and embarrassment when it became apparent to his family why he wore the face mask.

Clear felt over his chin and mouth, the arch of his nose - all of which he covered when he went out so that his vitiligo would be less eye-drawing. Taking the mask off in public had meant he was the subject of teasing or the overly-curious questions again, both of which Clear could only handle so much of in stride before getting overwhelmed. So although he was still stared at for his mask, it was far better to wear it than to not. Even his teachers over the years had just stopped asking, probably recognizing his pitiful position. It didn’t stop Clear from remembering one thing though, like a reprimand, every time he snapped the mask back on.

" _Your face isn't scary or freakish. Fuck everyone who thinks otherwise. You look how you look, and it's not bad at all_."

Clear put his hands down and tugged at the ends of his scarf. It was still August, the temperature a muggy 83 degrees outside. There shouldn’t be any reason for him to wear something so out of season, but it was Clear’s favorite accessory. It might’ve been the comfort of covering more of himself, but the familiarity of its texture and scent was also something to ground himself on. Without it, much like with his mask, he felt naked.

Tugging it a bit harder, he playfully pretended to choke when the scarf wrapped taut around his throat. The more optimistic part of him was also excited at the prospect of seeing new things, meeting other people who had a passion for music and performing like he did. There was a chance that, even when he’d miss home, getting away was what he needed.

Reassured by this, Clear swayed his thighs back and forth, his knees knocking together. “Mmm…”

Pounding of feet up the stairs coupled by overlapping voices started drawing closer to his room, and Clear mentally prepared himself when the twins burst inside.

“Big brother!” two voices chorused in a ruckus straight to Clear’s ear.

Bracing himself, he turned to face them, offering a smile. “Hello, you two. What’s--”

“What the _heck_ is taking you so long?”

“Yeah, _seriously_.”

“Everything’s already in the car--”

“ _Seriously_ , what the hell--”

“And you’re still laying here?”

“Grandpa told us to come get you because you’re taking _so long_ \--”

“Yeah, how are you gonna last in college if you’re so slow?”

“Stupid brother,” they said in unison.

Glancing back and forth between Al and Phi, Clear tried to keep track of the conversation. “Stop talking at the same time, please! Only one of you.”

Hardly a moment’s deliberation had passed before Phi (distinguished only by the fact that his left ear was pierced while Al’s right was; the added accessories had earned them three days of being grounded) looked to Al. Al then said, “Just get your butt up, we’re leaving.”

“I got it, I got it, I’m sorry.” Clear put his phone in his pocket and got up, leaving his now bare room at the mercy of his brothers to fight over - no matter how many times Grandpa said no one was taking over Clear’s room.

The twins seemed to notice Clear hesitating, and Phi whined. “Hurry _up_.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s go.” While he was fond of his brothers, there was no doubt it would take a while for anyone to warm up to them. Luckily (or not?), he’d lived with them all their lives. They could be fine when they were silent...

* * *

...For all of thirty seconds anyway.

At least they stopped arguing. The whole car ride consisted of them jabbing each other or Clear until Grandpa gave him one of his stern looks through the mirror that got them at least to lower their volume.

With peace more or less re-established, Clear took to looking at the scenery speeding by them - their town changed shape and gave way to long highways that eventually became a different city. The buildings here were newer, more expensive-looking and advertising a large array of shops. Clear took in everything that he could, hardly believing this was were he was going to be staying for the next few months.

In the distance, a tall tower stuck out among all the other buildings. Its shape was rather unique, an odd, futuristic one with metalwork rising up in curves around the tower, giving it an oval appearance. The suitably-named Oval Tower was the main landmark and symbol for Platinum Jail Academy. Clear widened his eyes at seeing it - it was a lot more impressive than just seeing it online, even from their distance.

Grandpa must’ve noticed where Clear was looking. “That’s it, right?”

“Yes,” Clear breathed.

“Are you excited?” Grandpa was smiling.

Clear gave a nod, returning his attention to the road. He practically squirmed in his seat, watching as the tower came closer. Right beside it, across the street, were pristine-looking white buildings. Banners and signs hung all over the lower level in the entrance way, presumably by the orientation advisers and RA’s of the dorms. Finding parking among all the other families bustling about to dump off their students was hard, and trying to get all of Clear’s things out and up in one trip was even harder. But after checking in and getting his key, Clear and his family made their way up to the fifth floor.

“You have so much crap,” Al muttered in the middle of the crowded elevator. Phi laughed.

“Alekos.” Another look from Grandpa was shot their way. The two stayed quiet but still gave Clear playful nudges as the elevator doors opened.

Clear looked at the number on the tiny packet his key was in. “513,” he said, and they started walking down the hallway. Behind the doors, he heard music - some recorded, some that clearly indicated someone playing an instrument. Some doors were open, revealing others that were unpacking or getting acquainted with their neighbors. Clear reflexively ducked his head down behind the box he held as they passed people. His mask burned desperately in his pocket.

Room 513 was at the very corner of the hall, but it was also pretty close to the bathroom. Although Clear already had it in his head to get undressed and changed in the bathroom when he took showers, he found the proximity relieving. Tacked on a bulletin board in front of the door was Clear’s name, neatly written. And the name right next to his was…

“Alright, come on, this is heavy.” Al nudged Clear with his foot.

“Ah, sorry, let me just--” Clear’s sentence was cut off by the door opening, his roommate on the other side. Clear smiled in thanks, looked up, and blinked in surprise.

Noiz was - really good-looking, albeit with an edge Clear wasn’t used to seeing. It was the piercings that decorated Noiz’s face that did it - they were on his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, below his lips, his ears… When he held up his hand in a wave to Clear, there was silver gleaming there as well. Clear couldn’t help but stare a little, pausing for a second to take in Noiz’s appearance before remembering how he looked himself and quickly fumbled for words.

“Hi!” he said. _Eye-contact, eye-contact_... “I’m Clear. Nice to finally meet you, Noiz!”  

Noiz didn’t stare, didn’t laugh or narrow his eyes. He only nodded and stepped to the side, giving them space to come in. “Need any help with that?” he offered, his voice low and husky, like he’d just gotten up. His clothes were a little wrinkled, and his short blond hair _was_ sticking up in several places.

Clear shook his head. “It’s fine! Oh wait - Grandpa, let me get that now.” As he helped with that, Noiz padded back to his side of the room, which still looked fairly bare, boxes still strewn around along with a network of wires, and got on his laptop.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Clear getting situated with his things, but there wasn’t much to do when he’d put things away himself. The room was bigger than he thought it’d be, but given only half of it was his, he supposed it was a bit small. Well, he wasn’t picky, and he didn’t have a lot of things, so it was fine.

“Are you hungry, Clear?” Grandpa asked. “We can all go out to get something before we leave.”

“Ah,” Clear paused. “It’s fine. It’ll probably be harder to leave the longer you stay, so you can…” Clear stopped, trying not to get emotional.

He’d always been with his family, and having hardly any friends prevented him from having sleepovers or being gone for even a weekend. It would be the first time he’d be separated from them. Grandpa’s reassuring gesture of tousling his hair, or being with his brothers - he wouldn’t be able to have that again for awhile.

He glanced over at Noiz, who was still typing away at his keyboard, a large pair of headphones pressing on his ears.

Luckily, he was saved from having to finish his sentence when Grandpa clapped his hand on top of Clear’s head, and he mussed his hair. “Alright, then we’ll be going.” Smiling, he brought Clear in for a hug. “I’m really proud of you, Clear. Don’t hesitate to call whenever you need to. Give us updates, alright?”

Reassured, Clear returned the hug. “I will, Grandpa.” When they pulled away, he turned to look at his brothers, who were being rather quiet. Giving what he hoped was a meaningful look, he said, “Try to listen to Grandpa, you two. And don’t get into so many arguments.”

Twin pouts appeared on their faces and they made noncommittal groans.

“I mean it!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Worry about yourself. You better not trip down the stairs or get lost or something.”

“He would do that, wouldn’t he?”

So even his attempts to be a well-meaning older brother weren’t being taken seriously. Of course they wouldn’t. His brothers hardly listened to anyone else but themselves, and even that much was seldom enough.

Al and Phi shuffled around before both coming in for quick, one-armed hugs. Clear only had a few moments to wonder when the last time they both _actually hugged_ him was, and then they pulled back, glancing around and walking toward the door.

“See you later, big brother.”

“Bye.”

Grandpa smiled, patted Clear one more time before leaving himself. And then Clear was alone.

Well, not _alone_ \- Noiz was here of course, and Clear was quick to remind himself of that as he hastily turned around before he could start crying. He busied himself with unpacking - setting up his bed, hanging up the jellyfish weather charms he made, putting some of his clothes away.

There was a separate box he had, with CDs and some manga that covered up some more of Clear’s clothes - his secret ones, the one dress and two skirts he owned. While he knew he’d much rather have brought them than leave them behind, he wasn’t sure if he could actually wear them. He stared almost longingly at the clothing, a voice teasing him to try putting one of them on, right here and now.

Chewing his bottom lip, Clear emptied the box of everything but his stash then shoved it in his closet.

A knock sounded at the door. Clear perked up at hearing it and glanced at Noiz.

Noiz’s eyes lifted up from his laptop, noticing Clear staring, and raised his brows in question. Clear pointed at the door, making his way over to it as another, energetic knock sounded. Noiz widened his eyes.

“Wait, don’t--”

Clear peeked out, and was greeted with a girl with a wide, trophy-winning smile on her face. “Heya! I’m Katherine, your RA! Are you Clear, or Wi--”

“ _Noiz_ ,” came the irritated voice behind Clear.

Katherine looked _ecstatic_ to hear Noiz there too. “Oh, so you’re both here! Great! And did you say ‘Noiz’? Want me to change that for you?”

Without glancing up from his laptop, Noiz sighed, “Yes.”

“That’s a cool nickname. Well, no problem, I’ll just make a note of that.” Katherine returned her attention to Clear. “So, Clear. Did you two just get here?”

“Aah, I did.” Clear tugged his scarf up to cover his nose, self-conscious by her focus straight at his eyes and her rather excited nature. Her gaze shifted to the side of his face, at his discoloration, and then back to his eyes with more intent, obviously forcing herself not to stare at the stains.

“Well, later on tonight, we’ll be having a meeting - you know, get to know each other, have an ice breaker. It’ll be fun!” She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice as she said, “And there’ll be cookies and punch, just to bribe you to come over. It’ll be in my room, 501, so I hope I see you two there! Don’t hesitate to knock on my door for anything, alright?”

As soon as Clear nodded and assured her that they’d stop by, Katherine gave a little ‘yay!’ and said her goodbyes. For a second, Clear could do nothing but stand there and marvel at the person he just met before finally closing the door.

 _Now_ Noiz was glaring at him. “ _Never_ open the door for that woman.”

“Do you know her?”

“No, and that’s the point.” Noiz raised his brows meaningfully. “I’m fine without knowing her. _She_ ,” he nodded toward the door, “freaks me out. I’ve been pretending I wasn’t here.”

“Oh. I see.” The obvious annoyance in Noiz’s voice put Clear off a bit. Maybe he wasn’t as friendly as he hoped he was. Clear made a note to try harder not to get on Noiz’s nerves. Although he thought he was pretty certain of the answer, he asked, “Are you not going to her room later then?”

Noiz’s lips pressed together like he was trying to stop himself from breathing. He actually must have, because in a burst, he said, “ _God no_. I don’t do ice breakers.”

That eliminated a good three-fourths of what Clear had been planning to do with Noiz on their first night together. Feeling awkward just standing there, Clear plopped himself down on his bed. Now that Noiz was actually paying attention, he didn’t want the conversation to just die.

“Then what are you going to do tonight?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of figuring out where the nearest pizza joint was and take off from there.” He tilted his head a bit, staring at Clear. “Do you do pizza?”

Clear nodded, maybe too enthusiastically. “I do!”

Noiz snorted, the corner of his lips lifting just the tiniest bit. “So exclamations are a part of your actual speech and not just through texts. I can practically see the emotes. Okay. Well,” he shrugged, putting his headphones back on, “pizza it is.”

Feeling accomplished, Clear grinned and nodded again, even though Noiz’s focus was right back on his laptop. The invitation and acceptance was enough to quell Clear’s anxieties, and he returned to personalizing his side of the room again.

Maybe everything was going to work out fine after all.

* * *

Noiz was weird. Either that or far kinder than Clear thought. Not only did he insist on paying the pizza by himself, but he also offered if Clear wanted to play some videogames on the small flatscreen TV he brought. Clear wasn’t very good at videogames, and his brothers had made it known how much he sucked when they handed him a controller. Clear had respawned at least twenty times before Noiz had even gotten critically injured once.

“You’re really good at this,” Clear said with a tiny, self-conscious laugh. He took a bite of pizza as his character crumpled to the ground once more with a pained cry.

“No, it’s just easy.” Noiz’s thumbs and fingers maneuvered the controller with expert precision, hardly batting an eyelash to new waves of enemies. Noiz told him before to be careful at certain areas for hidden, difficult bosses, but while Clear had done his best to avoid those spots, Noiz seemed to be actively seeking them out. If the game was really like he said, then he was probably trying to look for some challenge.

Noiz progressed to the checkpoint just as Clear revived, and the two were transported to a safehouse. Keeping his controller in one hand, Noiz grabbed a slice with the other. “Can I ask you something?”

Clear tensed, ready for the usual question that had been bound to come. “Huh? Sure.”

“Aren’t you hot with that on? Are you planning to go somewhere else tonight?” Noiz glanced over at Clear. His bright-green eyes with their impassive straightforwardness were almost like a physical touch.

The yellow scarf was still wound around Clear’s neck, the rest of his clothes on too except for his shoes. Noiz was in a baggy black shirt and loose green shorts that he could only assume were more-or-less his pajamas.

“Ah. No, I just haven’t gotten around to changing yet.” Clear offered a smile, but it was more towards the ground with how he ducked his head. His mask was still very noticeably absent from his face.

Noiz only hummed and then continued eating. A few minutes of them returning to gaming, a knock came at the door, and the two of them froze. Without any form of communication, Noiz grabbed the remote and muted the TV from making the sounds of gunshots and zombie cries.

“Clear! Noiz! It’s Katherine!” A pause. “We’re having that meeting right now, so come out and say hi to everyone!” After the message was passed, the two continued to wait just a little bit longer, staring at the door until the shadow left from underneath it.

Swallowing the pizza he’d left in his mouth, Clear looked at Noiz. “Do you think she knew we were in here?”

Noiz shrugged, unmuting the TV and picking up his controller again. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Her kind are trained for that shit.” As if the past minute didn’t happen, he was back in game mode and shot another zombie in the face.

 


	2. Track 02: Go Go Beauty 'Round 'Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A song to listen to when you need reminding of why you hide your face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mention this, but this is a more-or-less Americanized setting, so Clear won't be attaching any honorifics to names. I thought I should clear that up now. Also I hope it doesn't get too confusing when Clear has his mask on or off. He pretty much always has it on around people, except Noiz and his family.

The day before classes, Clear was feeling confident enough to go outside and explore campus a bit. He left Noiz behind, who was still sleeping even though it was almost noon, and headed out.

There were still people bustling about outside, probably all the stragglers barely moving in the dorms, and there was enough chatter going on that Clear went by unnoticed. He didn't particularly mind if people saw him since he had his mask on now, but remaining invisible was just a part of his norm at that point. On a bench outside, he plopped himself down and sent a text message to Grandpa about how he was doing before laying back, eyes roaming. For a few minutes, Clear was at a loss for what to do. He heard there was a river in the city, and if possible, that was where he wanted to visit first, but he wasn’t actually sure where it was or if it was anywhere near the academy.

After getting up again to wander around, Clear took a detour over near the actual buildings that held classes. There was one for the musicians, he knew, and an entire building dedicated to various studios for the dancers. There was a building nestled in the far corner that he wasn’t sure was for. Really, it was a lot more room for the students than he ever expected. He didn’t realize so many people were into performing like he was; in high school, interests like that didn’t matter. Interests like that that seemed to define your life weren’t important because trying to refine such talents weren't completely imperative yet. It was all left in the background noise of high school. But being here was a completely different atmosphere, one that was open and full of possibilities, and a swell of excitement filled Clear’s chest again as he walked past the buildings.

Tripping over his own feet in the next second though. _That_ was a little bit less fun.

Clear looked up, cheeks burning and knees smarting. Someone else had seen and was blankly staring, like they were trying to figure out what Clear would do next. He laughed to himself and quickly ran back to the safety of the dorms.

When he returned, Noiz was awake and was once again on his laptop. He didn’t so much as look up when Clear walked in, and Clear decided it would probably be a good time to take a shower and see how the they were.

“Noiz.” Clear sidled up to his side of the room when he gathered a towel, his new clothes, and soaps, his mask off. After a moment, Noiz glanced up, but continued typing away. “Do you know the bathroom code?”

“5522.” Noiz glanced back down, seeming to detach himself as soon as he answered the question. But then he frowned a bit and met Clear’s gaze again. “You’re keeping your clothes on?”

Clear knew he must’ve looked maybe a little funny, still in his clothes and his new ones in his arms. Most people probably undressed in their rooms and went out in towels or robes. Clear didn’t own the latter and was still too aware of the discolorations that stretched to his chest to even consider the former. Forcing a smile, Clear nodded. “Yes, is that strange?”

For what felt like minutes, Noiz just stared, fingers poised over the keyboard. Finally, he broke eye contact and continued on. “It’s whatever.”

That seemed to be the end of it. Clear padded into the community bathroom and found it luckily empty as he picked out a shower stall and started to undress. The showerhead was lower than he expected, and the tiles were still wet from the last person who used the stall. Clear ducked his head to get his hair washed and allowed himself to relax under the spray of warm water.

When he was naked, the discolorations on his body were more obvious. His skin was a rosy shade of peach, and the stains were almost as white as his hair. From a distance away no one would give his vitiligo a second glance, but if anyone was anywhere near him, he’d attract stares without a doubt. By this time in his life, Clear accepted the fact that not everyone would know right away that he was born with a skin condition, and wouldn't be able to help their gazes that roamed his body for too long. He could deal with that fact. It was everything else, the physical cues of awe and disgust, that Clear couldn’t handle.

The stains went from his face, around his eye and touching his lips, his ear and down his neck and spilling over his chest, all on his right side. Both of his hands had patches that were much lighter too, and Clear curled his fingers in and out, splaying them open to expose his palms to the spray of water.

“ _You look how you look, and it's not bad at all_."

Clear slapped those palms on his cheeks and started to scrub down his body.

* * *

A pep talk ran furiously through Clear’s head all the next morning. His first class was at ten, but his internal alarm clock woke him up around eight-thirty as usual. That gave him enough time to dress in jeans and one of his favorite, pastel-blue T-shirts. All throughout his walk to what he hoped was the right building, Clear fiddled with his scarf. The mask was already secured over his nose and mouth, but the scarf always had to stay, even in the growing heat of the day. 

He dashed into the classroom and ended up being rather early. He was the first there, and several times he checked his schedule to make sure he was at the right place and time. He took a glance at the empty chairs and music stands. There was also an upright piano sitting next to the teacher’s desk. It was quiet, and Clear found it unnerving more and more with each passing second. 

The first to finally step in was an older-looking man, maybe somewhere in his thirties, with tan skin and an impressive build. Clear, sitting on top of the back of a chair, straightened up and offered a smile, which was pointless given his mask. The man, who Clear could only assume was the teacher based on how he set his briefcase down on the desk, didn’t say a word and only gave a hard look with his golden eyes. It wasn’t a disgusted look, or even a curious one; his expression was completely stern, like Clear had done something wrong. Clear slid down to sit in his seat properly and tugged his mask up higher just as other students started trickling in and taking seats around him.

At ten o’clock on the dot, the class started to quiet down as the teacher stood expectantly before the desk, propping himself up by his palms. It looked like Clear wasn’t the only one who was intimidated by the teacher’s air.

Without any greeting or any particular look of attention at them, he said, “I’m Mink. I’ll be your vocal instructor for the semester. I’ll have you know right here and now that this will be a demanding course, especially for those of you that don’t have the basics of pitch and tone down.” He detached himself from the desk and went over to the piano, reaching out to strike a single key. He played it once, twice, then looked up.

“Can anyone tell me what that note was?”

Clear blinked, his mind coming up with random note names he’d heard before. A few students raised their hands or nodded, but others looked just as lost as Clear. A C? An E? How high did the letters go again? There were more piano keys than letters in the alphabet, right?

After pressing the key down again, Mink nodded his head to Clear. “Early one.”

Did that mean him? Clear stiffened, Mink’s merciless stare right on him and attracting the eyes of others around him. He glanced around, not finding the answer written anywhere. He could probably replicate the sound, but as for _naming_ it…

“Um… An E?”

“F.”

Oh god, was that his first grade? “S-sir?”

“The note,” Mink said with a sigh. “It’s an F.”

“Oh. I-I mean, F!” Clear’s cheeks felt hot, but luckily Mink was moving on, making everyone turn back to him with his rumbling voice.

“We’ll spend two days on note identification, but after that, it’ll be up to you to keep up with your practices,” Mink explained, opening his briefcase and taking out some papers. “As singers, you’ll need to be able to produce range and be impeccable at hitting your notes. When composing or reading music, you’ll have to be perfectly able to hear the note in your mind. Learn well, and this course will go smoothly.”

Although Mink wasn’t looking at him, he couldn’t help but get the feeling that the lecture was meant for him.

Forget about the scarf and mask, Clear wanted to cover his whole face already.

* * *

Two days later, Noiz tossed his key onto his bed when he came back in the room, the little cube keychain rattling against it. “Hey,” he said, “what are your plans this evening?”

“Huh?” Clear tugged out one of his earphones, pausing the audio file he was listening to. He was getting better at being able to name notes, but sharps were killing him. “I was just going to study.”

Noiz frowned like the word was offensive to him.

“Why?” Clear felt the need to defend himself.

Plopping himself at the end of Clear’s bed, he crossed his thighs, propping himself up. “Nothing. I just might be disruptive later.” He shrugged. “I have someone coming over. Are you okay with that?”

Was that a trick question? Clear had yet to figure out much about Noiz and his personality. He couldn’t figure out if he was nice or arrogant, impassive or cold. Noiz’s voice hadn’t risen above the same low monotone, and every time Clear came into the room, he was on his laptop. On top of that, somehow his side of the room was already untidy, but that seemed mostly due to all of his technical equipment.

Back to the question… “It’ll be fine, but,” he picked at the material of his earphones, “maybe I can look for somewhere else to study. I don’t want to be in the way.”

It seemed like that was the right answer; Noiz didn’t refute it. He let out an annoyed sigh, rubbing at his neck and messing with the piercings he had there. “We just get into arguments every time we meet up.”

“That’s terrible!” Clear widened his eyes. What kind of friend did Noiz have that they would argue every time they met?

“It’s a pain,” Noiz corrected. After a beat of silence, a grin tugged at his lips. Noiz’s smiles were odd just like the rest of him - they never quite reached his eyes, and they were a bit crooked like he had knew he had the upperhand on someone. His next words only confirmed it: “It’s also amusing though. I just wanted to be in the room because it’s my territory.”

"Noiz, this sounds like a dangerous person to be with! Maybe I should stay after all!” Clear nearly knocked his laptop over with how quickly he got on his hands and knees to face Noiz. “I don’t know how to fight, but I’ll go get Katherine if it gets bad!”

“ _Do not_ get Katherine.” Noiz reached out and lightly slapped Clear’s cheek. “I’ll be fine. I know how to handle people like him. It’s not your business, so you don’t have to get caught up in it.”

Clear’s shoulders slumped at Noiz’s words. Although Noiz talked and looked tough, he didn’t know that if a fight really happened if Noiz would be able to take care of himself or not. But if Noiz said no to help, if his tone was firm when trying to distance the situation from Clear, that meant he was at least a little concerned for Clear, right?

Probably, but probably not. Clear nodded as Noiz got up and went to his side of the room. It was still only half past five, but Clear put his laptop, and his notebook in his messenger bag and went out with a, “Please be careful, Noiz!” in response, making sure to slide his mask on as he left. Noiz waved him off with a humming sound.

As soon as he started walking down the hallway, Clear was faced with the indecision of where he’d go. He knew there was a library across the street, so he supposed that’d be a good a spot as any - it would be quiet, and possibly empty. When he went outside though, he realized college students used the library a lot more than high school students did - a stream poured in and out with only the briefest pauses in between. Clear hovered, then squared his shoulders as he approached the building.

His actual studying lasted only about thirty minutes before he started realizing he was hearing the resonating tone of notes even with the audio file paused. He moved on to some homework readings but gave that up quickly too. Although he’d found his own little corner, being curled up on a chair was making him feel cramped. How long would Noiz and his friend be in the room?

Clear stuffed everything back into his bag and left.

September was already here, but it had yet to get particularly chilly. His scarf blew over his arms, waving behind him when the lukewarm wind picked up. Pulling it up over his nose already covered with the mask, Clear hummed in consideration. “Maybe I’ll get something to eat…” Some people in his theater class were talking about a place not that far away that served good noodles.

Speaking of his theater class, the stage was right next to the library. Platinum Jail Academy apparently had two large stages and another smaller one, all in the same building. Clear went in there for theater, where they were already talking about the production they’d have a chance to try out for.

 _I have a lot of time to do what I want_ … Clear made his way inside the building, which was receiving far less visitors despite the fact that the hour was almost over. When he got to the large double doors of one stage, he took a peek around the neighboring classrooms then inside the actual theater.

 _No one’s around?_ Clear slipped into the dim theater, glancing around. All the seats were empty, and he couldn’t hear anything either. The only light was directed at the stage. Clear stepped down to ground level and hopped up the stage.

It’d been awhile since he was last on one - since middle school, maybe? Yes, probably then; he could distinctly remember telling Grandpa that he wasn’t going to do choir again in eighth grade. For some odd reason, the older they got, the more inclined his classmates were to tease him. Clear’s instructor told him not to quit, that he was too talented for that, but the damage was done. Back then, school and how his classmates saw him was everything, not the singing that he actually liked to do.

Clear squinted up at the light, bag slumped against his feet. “So bright!” His voice projected out, and he jumped, not expecting to have been that loud. But it was nice, standing on a stage again, and being _alone_ … Clear gave backstage a glance to make sure no one was around and then scampered back to the front, chest fluttering.

After a slow, hesitant breath, he drew down his mask so that it hung behind his ears, allowing him to properly breathe in the air. After freeing his mouth, the first new words of the “Jellyfish Song” started to flow out from his lips. Grandpa had taught him it when he was younger, when Clear and his brothers and father would go visit. Clear had sung it so many times that they were natural words on Clear’s tongue, ones he’d produced with their simple but pleasant melody.

“ _Sway, sway, swaying,_  
 _In between the waves_...”

 _Ah, the sound carries really well_. It was a lot different from how his singing sounded coming out when he sang in his room, or under the bridge next to the high school, or even in the shower. Clear wished he could go back to the dorm and dig out one of his skirts. He liked twirling in them as he sang, pretending he was this or that character. Realizing he did have a lot of space, Clear started to sway just like the jellyfish in the song, visualizing himself all dressed up, not having a worry about who saw him. He changed his melody, shifting the lyrics to one of his favorite songs, the words close and beloved to his heart.

“ _Chim chimney, chim chimney, chim chim cher-ee,_  
 _A sweep is as lucky, as lucky can be_ …”

Clear closed his eyes, unwrapping his scarf to dance with it as well, twirling in place and pretending to waltz. The squeak of his shoes distracted the effect, and in no time Clear was in his socks, continuing his dance as he sang, getting louder and more confident in his world of music. He was moving on top of roofs, just like the chimney sweeps, nothing but the beautiful night sky above him, and the whole world before him.

“ _Though I spends me time in the ashes and smoke,_  
 _In this whole wide world, there’s no happier bloke_  
 _Chim chimney, chim chimney, chi_ \--”

“Oi!”

And just like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, Clear's spell was broken. At that moment of being caught, of course Clear was so caught off guard that he slipped and slammed down hard on his butt. He exclaimed, though in pain or surprise he wasn’t sure, but in the end it was something of a pitiful whimper. Just like that, he was in the real world again, and had no pretty costume or make up to cover his scars from the person who'd come in.

More than one pair of footsteps made their way over, but only one got near enough for Clear to be facing someone’s legs clad in tight, worn jeans. “Oh god, my bad! Are you okay?” A pair of hands hovered above Clear, unsure if to help.

Ignoring the pain on his rear and the embarrassment staining his face, Clear fumbled into the present. He was exposed, and immediately he tugged his mask back up, not caring that some of the fabric folded unevenly. Rubbing his spine, Clear felt around for his shoes and bag too. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was using this space!” There was one shoe, now for the other… Thank goodness, there it was. Clear quickly slipped them on, still pitifully sitting on the stage. “I’m sorry again, I didn’t think anyone was using it, so I just started, um… But I’ll leave now.”

There was a reassuring bit of laughter from the stranger. “Hey, it’s no problem. I mean, it’s here, so of course you’d want to use it, right?”

After Clear wrapped his scarf around his neck again, he looked around for his bag only to see it was being offered to him. For the first time, Clear looked up, and it was a good thing he was still on his knees, otherwise he surely would’ve stumbled back down.

The boy’s most distinguishing feature was his long blue hair that he kept back in a ponytail, but the tresses were spilling over his shoulder as he leaned down to Clear. His face was kind and open, and even his hazel eyes held no sense of accusation or irritation toward Clear. They did, of course, shift to the right side of his face, but then they met Clear’s eyes, and he smiled.

Clear’s heart stuttered. Then he remembered the bag still being offered to him and he quickly slung it over his shoulder, getting up. “Thank you,” he said.

“No problem. And my bad for scaring you.” He laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck. Clear watched the movements with almost desperate fascination. Two others still lingering near the edge of the stage came over then, one with light tattoos on his tan skin and a case over his shoulder offering a smile to Clear before clapping a hand down on the boy’s shoulder.

“Hey, you want to save the acoustic check for later? We can try again Thursday after you get out of your last class. It should still be empty here then.”

“Well, that’s…”

Clear waved his hands, face still feeling hot. “No, please, it’s fine! I’m really leaving now, so you can use the stage!” Before any of the others could say anything, Clear went off to the edge of the stage and jumped down. He couldn’t tune the rest of the world back in until he was back out in the hallway, shoe laces undone and scarf a bit too tight around his neck so that he felt the frantic beat of his heart.

A whole buzz of thoughts flew in his mind, but Clear’s body was still as he leaned against the wall and slid down the floor. The hallways stayed empty, although behind him in the theater, Clear could start hearing the faint sounds of an acoustic guitar accompanying someone’s singing. Clear marveled at the sound of it, holding it close to him and turning it over and over like a pretty stone found at a riverbank.

“ _Your face isn't scary or freakish. Fuck everyone who thinks otherwise. You look how you look, and it's not bad at all_."

More time must’ve passed than Clear thought. He didn’t even know how he’d been passing the minutes. Was it just staring at the opposite wall? His legs were starting to cramp from how he folded them close to his chest. A glance at the old-fashioned watch Grandpa had given him said fifteen minutes had gone by. Music and bits of laughter were still going on behind him. A silent debate picked up in Clear’s head, and in the end he took a deep breath and got up.

The three individuals were still on stage, practicing. Only one of them didn’t play, a girl with ink-black hair down to her shoulders, a skull barrette in her hair, and a loose pink dress on. She watched the other two over her cellphone, smiling. As Clear inched closer, she was also the one to notice him, and offered a wave. The other two noticed and looked back, stopping their music.

“Oh hey,” the tan one said. “Welcome back.”

“H-hello, sorry for interrupting.”

“No problem. Hey,” he turned to the blue-haired boy, “the check went great. I think it’ll be good enough. I’ve got to get to Koujaku’s class anyway.” He started to pack up his guitar, which Clear noticed was decorated with a bunch of designs. His case even more so, with patches sewn on it as well.

“Alright, see you later, Mizuki.”

“See ya.” Mizuki hopped down the stage, giving Clear a little nod as he walked on by.

The other two looked ready to leave as well, and Clear cleared his throat, approaching them. His stare was only on one of them though. The blue-haired boy turned to look at him, and even with the lighting, it was hard to mistake those features with anyone else’s. Maybe the eye color seemed different somehow, but… There was little doubt in Clear’s mind that he was thinking of someone else, and he was starting to shake again - from happiness or apprehension, he wasn’t sure. But his mouth was open and no sound was coming out.

The girl exchanged a confused look with the boy. “Um,” he said, “can I help you?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Yes!” Clear put his palms down flat on the stage. He was sweating, and whether he shaking in his chest was excitement or fear was unknown to him - but he was smiling. The boy couldn't see it, but Clear was smiling hopefully, because the boy had the ability to know his expressions even with the mask on. And after a breath, he took his shot.

“Sly, it’s you, right? You seem a little different but I recognized your hair, and your voice singing... Oh, it’s me, Clear!” A smile was wide on his face. He wanted to be up there on stage, he wanted to hug the blue-haired boy after so long, he wanted to be around him again and never feel the need to be embarrassed or unaccepted. Because Sly always made him feel wanted.

A thick air came up between them. The boy withdrew a bit, a frown knitting his brows as the girl shuffled her feet, as if wondering whether or not to step up. Clear’s smile was beginning to falter the longer they stood there in silence. Memories of Sly being with him when they were fourteen years old came back to him, the boy with the same blue hair, his eyes more golden though, giving Clear the words he didn’t know anyone would ever say to him. That no-nonsense person, literally kicking Clear to his feet more than once.

“ _Jeez, what are you doing down there? Come on, get your ass up. Let’s go somewhere._ ”

They’d go to the most mundane places - the convenience store, the mall, the park, and under the bridge. Sly had written his name there, and pretty much on whatever he wanted, including on Clear’s arm once.

“Aoba.” The girl finally came closer, speaking in a low voice.

Finding the awareness to move again at that call, the boy shook his head at Clear. “I’m sorry, that’s not my name,” he said, like the girl had just reminded him.

“Oh.” Clear’s voice was quiet. Maybe childishly, he asked, “But are you sure? And you don't recognize me?”

“I think I know how I am.” Aoba’s voice was sharp. “I’m not who you’re mistaking me for, and I don’t know you.” Like he was composing himself, he offered a forced, tight-lipped smile and then picked up his bag to leave. The girl gave Clear a last long, sympathetic look before trailing off after Aoba.

When Clear got back to his room, it was nearing eight o’clock. Noiz’s friend was gone, but apparently so was Noiz. It was strange to come back and not see him in his usual spot on his bed with his laptop open, but Clear couldn’t find a reason to complain about it. Noiz probably didn’t want to listen to his trifling problems anyway.

It probably wouldn’t matter so much if he hadn’t gotten so _hopeful_. Clear didn’t understand why that hurt more than the embarrassment did. How could he have gotten that boy - Aoba - so _wrong?_ Clear _knew_ Sly’s face, and while this Aoba didn’t have that same air, Clear could definitely tell. It wasn’t just Aoba's face, it was that _singing_ that Clear knew too, biking down the streets at high speeds with Sly singing GOATBED at the top of his lungs, giving Clear near heart attacks when he’d nearly miss getting hit by a car, and then Sly just waving it off with snorting laughter. There was no way that Clear would mistake the boy who’d been the closest thing he’d had to a best friend.

Sly had _noticed_ him. But seeing that crinkle of Aoba’s nose, it was obvious he didn’t even know who Clear was. He wasn’t faking it; Clear truly didn’t exist in Aoba’s memory. And Clear's insistence had only come off as rude. That outburst was probably warranted.   

Why was he still thinking about it? Clear got under the covers, not doing much besides kicking his shoes off beforehand.

 _It’s okay, Clear_ , he told himself. His eyes were starting to water. The entire structure of his optimism that he’d been building up for years was made of paper in an instant and crumbling under the weight of his growing tears.

“ _Um, why are you sitting next to me?”_

_“Tch. You just look pathetic as fuck all hunched over like that. What the hell is with that mask?”_

_“I-it’s--"_

_“You look dumb, take it off.”_

_“Wh-what, no, I can’t!_ ”

Clear pulled the blankets over his head, closing his eyes. The lights were still on, and he was still hungry and it was early, but no part of him had the desire to get out from the safety and warmth surrounding him. He was perfectly covered here, so that no one would see him.

At some point, Noiz came in. The door didn’t close right away, so Clear supposed he was just standing in the doorway. He thought about moving, or giving a greeting, but in the end he settled on pretending to sleep. Eventually Noiz moved, tossing his key and locking the door. For a moment, Clear wondered if Noiz was okay, or if that fight with his friend really happened. Noiz seemed the type who would just deal with whatever came his way with a deadpan impassiveness, like he could hardly care about it.

Maybe he could afford in taking a page from Noiz’s book.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus an Aob is introduced! I wonder if me going back and editing is doing more harm than good... Hopefully the tone gets more steady as we go on. Nevertheless, I do hope that it's still enjoyable? Please let me know your thoughts, it would get me so hyped!
> 
> Until next time! Feel free to follow on tumblr: clears-jellyfish-dress


	3. Track 03: Most of the Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A song to listen to when you have ice cream the first time with new friends

The next morning, Noiz was gone before Clear even woke up. A mess of drool and tears were drying on Clear’s face as he wormed his way out of his cocoon of blankets. Sharp pounding pulsed in his temples, and he groaned, rubbing at his head. He honestly didn’t remember falling asleep. But the more he moved, stretching and gaining awareness, the more the previous evening came back to him. It was in a blurred motion, but he could distinctly remember sitting out in the hallway, looking up at Aoba’s pained smile…

Clear’s heart ached, and the want to go back to sleep came back to him. The light streaming in between the blinds was too bright though, and his stomach was reminding him of how he skipped dinner yesterday. Feeling gross in too many ways for comfort, Clear dragged himself out of bed and started his day. Right before he left, he pulled his mask out and slipped it on his face.

He’d taken to arriving to class a little later ever since that awkward encounter with Mink that first day. But even as others were in the room and Clear was scurrying to his seat, he felt Mink stare at him from where he stood in front of his desk.

The minutes passed, and after everyone had claimed their seats, the usual silence fell down upon them at the stroke of the hour. Like always, not a second before or after, Mink started right then. Three minutes into his lecture though, the door burst open, and a panting student tumbled inside. His wide hazel eyes took in the scene of the class before slowly sliding over to Mink, who was giving him a hard glare that made the poor boy flinch.

“A-ah. I’m sorry. I got my schedule switched around and--”

“What’s your name?”

“Aoba Seragaki. I don’t know if I’m on your roster yet, but I can--”

Mink reached out for a piece of paper that must’ve been the roster and made a note. “Take a seat. Be on time from now on.” And with that, it was like he tuned Aoba out, and it was his choice or not to start paying attention right away.

Aoba stood for a moment, shifting his weight around. He finally seemed to get the message to get moving and scrambled to the empty seat in front of the room, right in front of Clear. He quickly bowed his head, but it was too late. Aoba caught him looking, and for a second Clear thought he’d go sit somewhere else. Plopping his backpack on the ground though, Aoba slid into his seat and adjusted his music stand to his height. Luckily, Clear was taller, and with the way he slumped into his chair now, he could only make out the top of Aoba’s head.

Was this really happening? Was Aoba really in his class now? Clear would have to see him  _almost every day?_

But as Mink’s class went on, and Clear was able to relax a little more. Aoba wasn’t looking behind him or giving nasty looks or raising his hand to say he wanted to switch classes. The latter might’ve been extreme, but Clear was preparing himself for whatever scenario would make him feel the most like, well, crap. Maybe he had nothing to worry about at all though. Maybe they’d never even talk again. Clear wasn’t going to initiate anything after yesterday.

Still, Clear couldn’t  _stop staring_.

_He’s not Sly_ , he reminded himself. It wasn’t like he was still trying to actively plaster Sly onto Aoba. Although that voice, that long blue hair… Once, Clear had asked if his hair was natural. Sly only answered with a snide, “Is  _yours?_ ”

Clear shook his head. He never asked if  _Aoba’s_ hair was natural, that’d been Sly. It was time he made those distinctions now, even though really the two of them could be perfect twins. But Clear didn't remember Sly ever mentioning that he had a twin, although to be honest, Sly had never talked much about his family at all. Aah, he had to stop thinking already, before he stopped paying attention in class and just kept staring at Aoba. If he stared at Aoba, he’d only think of Sly, and Clear would just stay in his little pit of regret and embarrassment. He couldn’t have that. This was supposed to be his clean slate!

“Toue.”

When Clear snapped out of it and came back to the present, Mink was narrowing his eyes, and was so still he might as well have been a statue. As the classes had gone on, Mink had gone from the most basic nicknames to last names. At least Clear hadn’t been the kid to be called “Poptart” because they’d been caught eating one in the middle of lecture.

Sitting up straighter, Clear tried not to be intimidated. “Y-yes?”

“Sightread measures ten through fifteen.”

That meant he had to stand up. It had been what Clear looked forward to the least ever since he saw how sightreading operated in Mink’s class. He bit his lip inside his mask and rose. A sheet of music had been passed around after Aoba had come, but Clear had hardly glanced at it. He breathed in through his nose; exhaled quietly out his mouth, warming the inside of his mask. Oh no. Would Mink tell him to take it off? He couldn’t! Not when… He lifted his eyes from the page.

Aoba was looking at him.

Clear’s first note was higher than it was supposed to be. No one laughed, but Mink’s deep breath was enough to make his face heat up. He tried again. The words weren’t complicated, and the intonation fairly simple. At the end, he hunched his shoulders in a bit, ready for criticism.

For once, Mink’s eyes weren’t hard or glaring. The muscles of his face almost seemed relaxed. “Better,” he said.

The weight left Clear’s chest at the praise.

“But, you still need to work on your tempo. Take note of the time signature next time.” He nodded. “Take your seat. Kingston, pick up at measure sixteen.”

As Clear sat back down, he couldn’t help but feel proud. He’d gotten criticism, but it wasn’t a jab like usual. Mink just praised him.  _I did it…! I’m improving!_  Clear was smiling so wide, but no one would be able to see it. He was okay with that. When he turned his attention back to the front, Aoba was just turning back as well.

It didn’t mean anything, Clear knew. But Aoba had looked at him.

After class ended, Clear was torn to hurry and leave or pretend to linger. As the crowd of students began to head toward the exit, he thought it would be better to get lost in the middle of them. Before he could go two steps however, Mink held him back.

“Toue.”

Clear froze. “Yes, sir?”

“Your improvement marks merit. Display that same sense of ability in your individual session with me tomorrow.” Mink slid his papers into his briefcase and closed it. “Also, I’m sure you have your reasons, but when you sing here, pull your mask down.”

“Y-yes sir! I will!” Clear made his way back to the door, smiling again. The mess of yesterday could be forgotten if the rest of the day went just like this.

Aoba was right outside, leaning against the wall like he was waiting. Ducking his head, Clear walked a little faster, but then Aoba called out to him.

“Hey!”

Clear fumbled, gripping his bag’s strap tighter. “Hello.”

Aoba detached himself from the wall. None of the hostility from yesterday was present. If anything, with the lowering of his eyes, Aoba looked guilty. “Hey,” he said again, meeting Clear’s gaze. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

It was dumb to even try to pretend not to know what Aoba was talking about. He obviously remembered Clear - maybe not in the way Clear thought he would, but he did, and he was apologizing.

“It’s alright,” he said, shuffling his feet. “I think I said offensive things. But please don’t think of it anymore.”

“No, you weren’t the one out of line. I’ve just,” Aoba thought for a moment for the right words, or the right excuse, “I’ve been confused for other people before. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

In Clear’s opinion, Aoba’s features were far too distinguishing to set him together with very many other people. Then again, what did he know? He’d only lived in his hometown all his life, and the majority of that was spent looking away from people to avoid eye-contact. Thinking of it that way, it was no wonder Clear made himself so ridiculous with his insistence in knowing Aoba. Clear nodded, deciding to leave it at that.

But Aoba wasn’t letting him go. He matched Clear’s strides down the hall. “We should start over, since we’ll be seeing more of each other.” He held his hand out. “I’m Aoba.”

Clear looked down at the offered hand, the gesture seeming so casual that he wasn’t sure what to do at first. He grasped Aoba's hand, maybe too firmly. “I’m Clear.”

“Nice to meet you, Clear.” Aoba’s face lit up with a smile.

No one had ever introduced themselves to him before, and they certainly didn’t say how nice it was to meet him. Even if Aoba was being polite, Clear didn’t want him to stop. The hope that he could actually be friends with someone came back. He smiled behind his mask. “It’s nice to meet you too, Aoba.”

“Your singing is amazing, you know.” They were outside the building now, and where they were going, Clear wasn’t sure. He started to head for some place to eat, and Aoba continued to follow him. Although he wasn’t looking at Clear, he was smiling still as he said that statement.

“My grandpa and old choir teacher thought I had a good voice. But when I came here, I wasn’t sure how I’d measure up compared to everyone else.” He laughed a little to himself. “I’ve got to work twice as hard already, since I don’t have a lot of actual training.”

They were shoved off near the edge of the sidewalk, a stream of students walking opposite them. A pole popped up in their path and Aoba moved closer to Clear to avoid it. He muttered an apology when their shoulders bumped into one another. “If you were in choir, why was it difficult for you to pick up reading notes again?”

If he said why, that might open up other questions. He’d just have to rely on Aoba not asking anything like that. For now, he drove off the tension in his chest by humming. “Well, that’s because I stopped doing choir. Everything I learned I forgot.”

“Some of it must’ve stayed. The instructor was pleased, and I don’t think it’s easy to do that.”

“It isn’t,” Clear agreed with a sigh.

“But you did it.”

Clear’s lips twitched upward again. “I did.”

A comfortable silence fell between them. Any choice of topic spun through Clear’s mind to make a conversation again once he realized Aoba was done talking. But Aoba didn’t seem the least bit bothered or fidgeting for something to talk about. His expression was content, his footsteps going at Clear’s pace, like it was a normal thing for them to be walking beside each other like this.

But then Aoba asked it. “Why are you wearing that? Are you sick?”

Clear’s muscles threatened to freeze up, his body almost swaying with being prepared to walk in the opposite direction. But he stayed where he was, fretting with his hands. “No, I’m not,” he said. “I wear it because it makes me feel safe.”

“From germs?” Aoba guessed.

“No, from…” The words froze on his tongue. Although his discolorations weren’t completely invisible, he preferred it this way. The mask was his safety - that wasn’t a lie. But to have to explain why would mean exposing his insecurities, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that to someone yet. There wasn’t any guarantee that he wouldn’t be made fun of, or if in the corner of Aoba’s mind, he’d think Clear’s insecurity was childish. Unimportant. He couldn’t explain how much of a big deal it was because he was fairly certain dumping the total gravity of one’s problems wasn’t the normal thing to do to an acquaintance of five minutes.

When they came to a crosswalk, he realized Aoba was still waiting for an answer. “I just don’t like my face very much,” he finally said, laughing for good measure.

Aoba frowned slightly, and Clear knew he was searching of what he could see of Clear’s face for imperfections. The lighting from the theater might’ve made Aoba think he was just imagining Clear’s discoloration, but outside in the sun, the wind tossing Clear’s bangs, there could be no mistake.

“I’m sure your face is nothing to be ashamed of.” Aoba said it quietly, and with how he turned his attention to the ground, it was almost like he was afraid to say it. Maybe he thought the words weren’t true. Or maybe he thought Clear would think they weren’t. The mere possibility of it was enough to make Clear happy. No one but Grandpa had said words like that before. Well, Grandpa and Sly. But Sly had asserted that statement, laced in crude words but in his eyes it was obvious he was serious about what he said.

Either way, Clear appreciated the sentiment. The cars stopped and the signal to walk flashed but neither of them moved.

“So,” Aoba said, “where are you going now?”

“I was going to get something to eat. I sort of skipped breakfast today.”

“Whoa, it’s like past noon now!” Aoba adjusted his watch to get a look at the time. “Want to get something with me?”

There was no way Clear’s stomach couldn’t have done faster somersaults. He had no idea if it was excitement or anxiety. Both? Could it be both? “Is that alright?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t ask if it was an inconvenience. I still feel bad about yesterday, so let’s hang out a little more.” He took Clear’s sleeve and led him away from the crosswalk. “Come on, there’s a place I told my friends I’d meet them at.”

Before Clear could even get out his response, his body acted and he trotted to walk back at Aoba’s side. It wasn’t like he could even say no anyway. Definitely feeling excited, Clear followed Aoba. In just a few minutes, they came to a tiny, pastel-colored shop tucked between two others, the top reading ‘Candy Drops’ in faded pink letters.

“Sorry, it’s not an actual food place,” Aoba said when they shuffled in front of the entrance. He made a face like he just realized his mistake, and he tangled some of his fingers in his hair as if he wanted to yank at it. “Uh, I hope you like ice cream and frozen yogurt for your first meal?”

Clear clapped his hands together, grinning. “I really love sweet things!”

At that, Aoba laughed a, “Good, no complaints then,” and then ushered them inside.

Those friends that Aoba mentioned seemed to already be there, occupying one of the four tables. Both of them Clear already recognized as the other two individuals that were with Aoba in the theater. If he remembered their names right, the one waving was named Mizuki. And then the girl… He didn’t think he managed to get that.

“Be over in just a sec,” Aoba said. There was a display of the various flavors and toppings in front of them, and Aoba knit his brows together, humming in consideration. Clear was already stuck in a three-way tie between strawberry or cake-flavored ice cream, and the vanilla frozen yogurt. Cake with some sprinkles and chocolate syrup won in the end, and Aoba made his own order of chocolate frozen yogurt.

Aoba took a seat right next to Mizuki, and Clear slid in beside the girl, keeping his arms close to himself. Sitting down, it was just hitting him that he was surrounded by people he didn’t really know. Aoba was his only familiarity, and he wished he could sit next to him instead. As the others exchanged greetings, Clear picked at his ice cream and kept glancing at Aoba’s hands.

“You guys remember Clear from yesterday?” One of Aoba’s hand turned over, gesturing at Clear across from him.

“Oh right,” Mizuki said, “the dancing fella who likes Mary Poppins. So, Clear, is it?”

Having forgotten the actual circumstances of their meeting, Clear felt his face heat up at Mizuki’s words as he nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

“He’s just teasing,” Aoba said, smacking Mizuki’s arm. “Anyway, this is Mizuki. We’ve basically been friends since we were teenagers. He’s also older. And this is my twin brother, Sei.”

It took Clear a few seconds longer than necessary to register what Aoba said. It took another few for his mind to connect that the girl with the cute outfit was, in fact, Aoba’s brother, with a flat chest and rather boyish hands now that he looked properly. That same boy was smiling at Clear with lips shimmering in pink gloss, his stocking-clad legs crossed at the thighs.

_R-Real life Kuranosuke!_

Without any knowledge of Clear’s thoughts, Sei tucked some hair behind his ear before extending his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

When Clear took his, he might’ve barely gripped it unlike his handshake with Aoba. “Yes, nice to meet the both of you.” Although Clear was glad the mask could cover most of his face, he hoped there was nothing offensive in his eyes. He tried not to stare or shake. Instead, he focused very hard in trying to blend his sprinkles and syrup in with his ice cream. Luckily, the others were starting to become engrossed in their own little conversation, and Clear spooned some ice cream together.

Oh. He hadn’t thought about how he’d eat. He tried hard not to wear his mask when he went out with his family, and at school, he ate lunch in secluded places or under the bridge. In the beginning, Sly had also been there, and he’d carried on with no comments or stares at Clear’s face. Aoba and the others weren’t bad people at all. They smiled a lot and made good music and ate at ice cream shops.

He just had to trust that there were people like Sly out there who wouldn’t ostracize him.

Thinking of Sly made Clear give a glance to Aoba, who laughed at something Mizuki said. Then, before he could overthink it, he tugged down his mask and took a bite of his ice cream. The cake bits were nice and saturated with the melting treat, and it made Clear feel better.

But then Aoba was looking at him. Again. And just like that, Clear brought the mask back up. Aoba frowned again, but not unkindly. He actually looked sad. Clear wasn’t sure if he wanted something like pity tossed at him though. In a way, it was just as worse as being ignored or stared at. He pretended to cough.

“Hey, Clear, what are you?” Mizuki gained his attention.

“What am I?”

“Yeah, like your year, your specialty.” 

“Well, what are you?”

“Touche. I’m a third year. I play guitar, bass, trumpet and drums.”

Clear was in awe. “So many instruments! That’s amazing!”

Mizuki smiled. Judging by how bright his eyes were and the natural crinkle of his laugh lines, Clear guessed that Mizuki smiled a lot. “Thanks.”

“I’m a first year,” Sei said, voice just as soft as it was yesterday. “I play violin and piano.” Sei was also smiling, but it was more gentle than Mizuki’s energetic, friendly one.

That left Aoba, who waved his hand like he was dismissing himself. “And well, you know me. I just sing. The only tune I can carry is with my voice.”

“And even that’s stretching it,” Mizuki remarked around his spoon. That earned Aoba dipping a spoon into his ice cream and dotting it on Mizuki’s cheek.

“There, now you got a matching tattoo.” He stuck out his tongue.

When Mizuki laughed and Sei giggled quietly, Clear thought it was alright that he laugh a little too. Mizuki had a teardrop tattoo underneath his left eye, and the goopy drop of his ice cream seemed to mirror it.

As Mizuki cleaned himself up, he nodded to Clear. “So yeah, what about you?”

“This is my first year here too. And I also just sing.”

Aoba held his hand out. “Alright, we’ve got to teach these two that singers are just as impressive as people who play instruments.”

“You say it like we’ve been doubting you.”

“I like your singing, Aoba,” Sei said, pouting.

Ignoring them, Aoba continued to hold his hand above the table. And for the second time, Clear took Aoba’s hand and shook it. “Sure,” he said, albeit uncertainly. “I think anyone who can make music is impressive though. If it’s beautiful and theirs, and can make others feel something, that’s what makes it so great.”

Both Mizuki and Sei nodded in agreement, seeming moved by Clear’s words. Aoba pulled his hand away from Clear’s, but his attention was still fixed on him as he quirked a smile. “Yeah. It’s great to be surrounded by people who think like that.”

Startled by the wave of positive attention, Clear wished he could splat his ice cream on his face to keep it from burning. He made do with continuing to eat in cautious bites, bringing his mask down for just a spoonful before putting it back up. Aoba looked at him a few times as he did it, but didn’t say anything. If Mizuki or Sei noticed, neither of them were making it obvious.

In almost a half hour, Sei was the first to get up, smoothing down his black dress over his thighs. “Aoba, I have to go to my class now.”

“Oh, okay. Hold on, me and Mizuki will go with you.” Aoba gathered his cup and everyone else’s empty ones while he was at it and threw them away. As he did, he turned to look at Clear. “What about you, Clear? Do you have anymore classes today?”

“I have theatre at three.”

“Theatre, huh,” mused Aoba, coming back to the table.

“That explains the dancing,” Mizuki said.

Clear tugged at his scarf. “I’ve never actually performed in that kind of way before.” He rose up along with the others and started to follow them out the door - if anything, because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave them just yet. None of them seemed to mind, and once they were outside, fell into step with one another.

"So when you say theatre, you mean musical, right?" Mizuki continued on. "Since you sing."

Clear only nodded with a hum in the affirmative.

"That's pretty impressive. You're acting _and_ singing up there. That's way more than I can do." Mizuki's smile turned sly. "Kinda like Aoba." 

Almost immediately, Aoba's hand shot out to shove his friend away. "Mizuki, I swear to God I'm locking you out of the apartment." Even as Mizuki staggered from the shove, he was stifling his laughter, and Aoba was grinning too.

_Those two really do play with each other a lot. That’s probably what friendship looks like then, right?_ Clear observed Mizuki and Aoba like subjects, taking notes of their casual manner with one another. Maybe if he spent more time with someone, he’d be able to play and joke like that too. Sly used to tease him, tugging on his scarf or poking at Clear’s cheeks.

“ _Right there, these moles under your lips_ ,” Sly leaned in closer, making Clear squirm under his intent gaze as a grin formed on his face, “ _they’re really cute, you know_.”

As Mizuki and Aoba continued talking, Sei silently walked beside Clear. He was an awfully quiet person, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the social situation. Even in his dress, he walked without any trace of self-consciousness. Clear wondered how long Sei had worn girls’ clothes, or why he did, or if he liked twirling in them like Clear liked to. There was a floodgate of questions he wanted to ask Sei, but he wasn’t sure if any of them would be rude. And he’d never talked about his crossdressing before - Sly was gone when he got his first skirt. He kept those clothes hidden back at home and were now buried in his dorm.

He wanted to talk to Sei, because he never met someone like him before. But maybe he wasn’t familiar with Sei enough yet to say anything. And right now, it was obvious his confidence was on another level than Clear's, since he could so openly wear what he wanted.

Clear kept quiet until they reached another street, where Aoba and the others were going one way, and his theatre class was in the other.

Aoba noticed him lagging behind. “Oh, do you have to go that way?”

“Yes.”

Aoba gave him a smile. “Alright, I’ll see you in class again.”

“Yes!” Clear’s eyes were wide, warmth filling his chest once more.

“See you, Clear. It was nice meeting you.” Mizuki and Sei waved their good-byes, and then together, the three continued heading off. No sooner had they done so did Clear go toward the theater, his chest feeling like a thousand balloons were let loose through it.

Those light feelings lasted even as class began. Clear felt like he could do anything, have confidence in himself, because he did it, he talked to new people and they didn’t hate or ostracize him in the end.

“ _See you in class again_.” Aoba said that. Maybe Clear was over analyzing it. Maybe there was nothing to be excited over since of course he and Aoba would see each other in class; that was a given. But if he kept sitting in front of Clear, they could talk more. That’s all that he wanted anyway - someone to talk to. People that accepted him.

However, being put into pairs in class to read dialogues in the practice rooms to each other seemed too much too soon. The confidence Clear had before finally floated away as he watched his classmates drift toward one another one by one. It was a routine he was familiar with already - sooner or later, he’d be left on his own, and one other unwilling soul or the teacher would be shoved his way. Would that kind of embarrassment follow him in college? _Of course it would._

In between the moving bodies and shifting chairs being dragged to the practice rooms, Clear chanced to look around, probably risking himself to appear completely pitiful in the process. But someone else two seats behind him was doing the same, and very much was the picture of anxiety. His amber eyes darted every which way, never staying on a single person for long, and his muscular body was somewhat hunched over his desk. Clear vaguely remembered him as someone who sat at the edge of class, but beyond that, nothing.

They made eye-contact. Both of them froze like deer caught in the highlights. And just like that, there was an unspoken agreement between them.

Clutching the script, Clear was the first to move. He shuffled over to the other boy, offering a smile. “Hello. Um, would you like to be partners?”

The boy looked relieved as he nodded. “Yes.”

By the time Clear they got to an empty practice room, the class had stopped moving around and now the lines were being echoed back and forth between the groups behind their closed doors. Clear wet his lips, wrinkling his nose when he accidentally tasted the material of his mask. “I’m Clear,” he said, jutting his hand out in imitation of the gesture he became acquainted with today.

The anxiety momentarily came back to those pretty, warm eyes (and Clear could see at his new distance that they were indeed quite attractive), but then the boy relaxed again. He reached out a trembling hand, gripping a little hard as he shook Clear's hand. “Ren,” he said, smiling with closed lips. He brought one of his legs up on his chair, hugging it to his chest.

It didn’t sound like Ren enjoyed talking very much. If anything he seemed even more on edge than Clear did. With his size, it was a bit funny, but since Clear knew the feeling, he couldn’t really laugh at it. He took a glance down at the script for who had the shorter lines.

“I can be Gretel if you’d like.”

Although his eyes were on the script, Ren didn’t seem to actually be reading through it. But he nodded, and then Clear started.

Overall, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. Despite the awkwardness he displayed before, Ren’s voice carried his lines strongly and concisely, his deep voice resonating clearly. He could probably just read the entire musical and everyone who heard it would simply be transfixed by the timbre of his voice. It was actually very soothing to listen to; Clear almost wished he’d given him Gretel’s lines instead.

At the singing parts, Ren hesitated a bit. Clear did his best to be confident for the both of them - it was obvious Ren might need the vote of confidence more than he did. Besides, it was nice to give that sort of kindness to someone. Sure enough, as Clear sang his parts, Ren’s voice too started to get louder, his singing more sincere. If his speaking voice was amazing, his singing was breathtaking. Why on earth someone with his voice could be so timid was beyond Clear.

When they were done, he smiled at Ren, even though he couldn’t see it. “I really like your voice.”

Ren’s cheeks colored, and a shy smile spread on his lips. Their practice seemed to have loosened him up a bit. “Thank you. You too. Although,” his eyes fell to Clear’s mask, “isn’t it difficult to sing with that on?”

He’d already been asked by Aoba and Mink about his mask that day, and Clear wasn’t so sure if he could so honestly give his answer as to why he wore it again. So instead, he answered Ren’s question with, “A little,” and left it at that. Luckily, Ren did too.

After that, the instructor called them out of the practice rooms. A group or two went up to the front of the class to perform the bit they had to do. Both Clear and Ren were adamant about not making eye-contact with the instructor to become one of those that had to go up. When the class ended, Ren gave him a wave and a “Have a nice day” before heading out of the classroom.

Clear had been scared at first, but - maybe he was getting better at interacting with people. A lot seemed to happen to him in the course of just one day. If it kept happening then Clear’s heart might just burst from feeling so relieved and happy.

Making a mental note to talk to Ren more - because he needed assurance more than Clear did; just like Clear did when he was with Aoba and the others - he shouldered his bag and headed back to his room.

Unlike earlier that morning, Noiz was in the room when Clear returned. He gave a him a quick glance, then frowned, staying on Clear’s face.

“Why are you wearing that?”

_Again_. Remembering Noiz had already seen his face and seemed to not have a single care about it, Clear slipped the mask off and shoved it in his bag. “I thought I might be catching something,” he said, plopping onto his bed. “Ah! But you don’t have to worry about it! I’m actually fine!”

“Alright.” He nodded toward a flat box sitting on top of his desk. “I ordered pizza earlier. There’s still some slices if you’re hungry.”

That certainly explained the smell of food when Clear came in. “You ordered pizza again? Why?”

“Because ramen is bland.”

Clear wasn’t sure if that answered his question per se, but he took it anyway. He decided on grabbing a slice (Grandpa was going to be really disappointed in his health choices these days) and starting up on some homework. Back home, this was more-or-less his daily routine as well, since he didn’t hang out with anyone after school. Although his day certainly hadn’t gone to waste. He hadn’t been by himself, after all.

Oh, that was right. Clear put his book down and took a look at Noiz, who was of course focusing away from him. After the talk from yesterday, he expected some sort of evidence of the fighting Noiz had wanted Clear to stay out of. The room was relatively the same, with nothing looking broken. Noiz too didn’t have scratches on his face and didn’t seem to be in any pain.

Noiz caught Clear staring. “What?”

“Ah, nothing! Um, how did your visit with your friend go yesterday though?”

“Oh that.” Noiz’s tone flatlined again. He shrugged, returning to work. “The guy’s an idiot, like I said. At least I had some entertainment for an hour. That’s really all he’s good for anyway.”

It probably wasn’t Clear’s place to make judgments, especially when the fact he’d only had one friend before was taken into account. And truth be told, some of Noiz’s words and mannerisms seemed like things Sly would do, but there was something more cold about it, and it made Clear feel anxious.

“Is that the kind of thing you say about your friends?” It wasn’t an accusation.

Noiz took a deep breath, like the question was his greatest source of annoyance. He stopped working again and slowly closed his laptop. “That guy is _not_ my friend. I never said he was. We just used each other once, and that’s it.”

“Used each other?” Clear didn’t understand. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to, or try to understand what kind of people could succeed in using Noiz. It sounded like he was the kind of person who would tell another off sooner than he would do anything for them.

Probably sensing how lost Clear sounded, Noiz got up and started shoving things in his bag. By the length of silence, the conversation seemed to have closed. After changing into another shirt though, Noiz turned to Clear with narrowed eyes. “I don’t have any kinds of relationships like you’re in. So if I mention anyone, don’t assume I mean someone friendly.”

It took a second for Clear to get what Noiz was trying to indicate. As he watched Noiz shoulder his bag and head for the door, Clear said quietly, “I don’t have any relationships.” He thought he said it quietly enough for Noiz not to hear - it was a rather pathetic thing to admit, and the truth of them made a pit grow in Clear’s stomach. He had a good time today, but would anything be built from it, or would Clear trip over himself and mess up something amazing? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it.

Noiz paused, looked back with his hand on the knob. Clear was startled to see the stare, calculating, trying to read him. Finally, after completing whatever mental notes he made, Noiz sighed. “Well. Then you’ve probably got a lot more to worry about than I do.” He took a step out, then back in. He opened his mouth then started to tug on one of his lip piercings with his teeth. Finally he settled on propping the door open with his foot, crossing his arms.

“Noiz?”

“I don’t help people without getting something out of it, but,” he sighed again, and Clear wondered if he ever just exhausted his lungs from it, “you’re...kind of like a rabbit. A really happy rabbit.”

That was something he’d never been called before. Clear’s mood lifted just a little bit to make way for curiosity. “What does that mean?”

“It means anyone can do anything to you. You gotta learn to bite back, otherwise you’ll find yourself in a regrettable situation.”

Was he being called helpless? Clear was telling the truth in not knowing how to fight, and he was certain any punch he threw would barely be anything to make his opponent flinch. The chances of him associating with violent people like Noiz seemed to be around was really low. But...didn’t that just mean maybe he was right then about Noiz, that he was being looked out for?

“Do you think someone is going to hurt me?”

“Isn't that the kind of thing people do?” With a shrug, Noiz left the room without another word.

That meant Clear was alone to think about what Noiz just said. He wasn’t sure if the advice was something that warranted a note of thanks. Without a doubt, he was sure Aoba and the others weren’t bad people. He didn’t think any of them would hurt him, or so he hoped. Clear was satisfied to leave it at that; too much thinking like this would only make him unnecessarily anxious, right? Right.

Dispelling those thoughts, Clear switched to wondering about Noiz himself. That kind of logic that he only had relationships of using and being used wasn’t a normal thing, was it? It was the first time Clear had heard of it. How could someone be used? Relationships of just keeping tallies of who took and gave didn't sound like they gave much enjoyment.

Clear's head was starting to hurt. He’d just leave that all for another time. For now, he wanted to bask in the happy glow of his day just a little bit longer. Starting to hum in a carefree manner to himself, Clear doodled in his notebook and then continued on with his homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now a Ren enters the scene, and more formally a Sei and Mizooks [confetti] I'm very excite that the introductions are finally done so we can just roll along now to more interesting things. Also I'm pretty sure it's obvious who Noiz is talking about, pffft. Re-reading the chapter, I can't believe I made him such a downer.
> 
> And ofc Clear is a huge Kuragehime fanboy, did you really expect any less? (His ringtone is actually the anime's ending song.)
> 
> Feedback y/y?


	4. Track 04: Finally Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A song to listen to when you find someone to trust a secret with and everything seems okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm rolling out of town for the weekend, so I'm dishing this out a little early. 
> 
> As I go back and do edits, I realized I'm also doing a lot of re-arranging of the chapters as well. Originally, the last scene with Ren was going to wait until next chapter, but I decided to add it here to lengthen up the chapter a bit. On that note, I don't like putting huge time skips in the middle of a chapter, but hopefully you'll bear with me orz
> 
> One last thing! As the story goes into more talk of crossdressing and gender, I want to do my best not to offend anyone. However, it's important to note that Clear has no idea of these things so if the narrative ever comes off as offensive or you're mentally correcting it, please know that will change as Clear becomes more aware of these things. (I'm hoping Sei is talking about it correctly though.)
> 
> I think that's it for now, so I hope you enjoy!

Probably the first memory Clear could remember snapshots of was of the first time he saw jellyfish. When he was younger, sometimes being in a room in a particular shade of blue, or seeing the shudder of grass undulating in the wind, reminded him of something else, something like an old photograph and the contents of it was darkness save for the illuminated depths of water. There were small, slow shapes with streaks and stains but almost seeming to glow were in that water.

When he told Grandpa about it, he smiled and told Clear he was probably remembering the first time he took Clear to the aquarium. It was so long ago, the twins hadn't even been conceived yet - he was amazed Clear could actually have that memory. For a year or two, the memory was one of comfort for Clear, bringing with it a strange sense of serenity in the darkness, of floating along with the jellyfish even though he knew now that that was just Grandpa holding him. It was his lucky charm for when he felt down, his source of happiness, and maybe it was strange to hold a memory of something so random like that, but then his Grandpa gave him something better.

"Clear, come here for a second. There's a song I want to teach you..."

* * *

 

"Sway, sway, swaying, in between the-- Huh?" 

When Clear was walking up to the classroom in which he’d have his individual lesson with Mink, he was surprised to see Aoba already there, splayed out on the bench and bright pink headphones over his ears. Clear approached him, unsure if he should disturb him or not. Music was softly beating, and Aoba's posture and expression was nothing short of relaxed. It was a shame, but in the end, Clear went over and poked at Aoba’s stomach.

Aoba jumped, smiling when he saw it was Clear. “Hey.” He sat up, making room.

Clear plopped down beside him, neatly crossing his ankles and folding his hands on his lap. “Good morning, Aoba. Is your individual lesson today too?”

“Ah, yeah. I got here almost an hour early though. I thought I might as well stay on campus since I dropped Sei off at class earlier.”

“You don’t live in the dorms?”

Before answering, Aoba took a moment to tug his headphones down and turn off his music. “Nope, I live in an apartment with Sei and Mizuki. Sometimes Mizuki drives us, sometimes I do, since our schedules aren’t perfectly compatible.” He shrugged.

_That’s amazing. They’re all already living on their own in a different way_. Come to think of it, Clear did remember Aoba threatening to lock Mizuki out of their apartment. It had to have been nice to live with Mizuki and Sei, since Aoba had known them for so long, and he told Aoba as much.

“Well, that’s true, I guess. I mean, we already know what ticks us off and what our boundaries are and stuff.” He gave Clear a curious look. “So you live in the dorms then, right? Do you get along with your roommate?”

That was a loaded question. Noiz was calculating and distant and weird and, well, just too hard to pin down. All of his habits were strange and he called Clear a rabbit. Although all things considered, the two of them and their room were in one piece, so surely those were good enough signs about Noiz's character. Or so Clear liked to think.

“He’s really interesting,” he settled with. Aoba looked skeptical, so he clarified, “He doesn’t talk very much, but he shares his pizza with me, so I think he’s nice.”

"That's good enough for me," Aoba laughed.

Clear smiled too at the pleasant sound, and at how casual Aoba was being. Even if it was small, Clear liked to be able to converse with him and learn these little things. Baby steps in forming a friendship, after all.

“Hey, are you going to wear that during your lesson?” Aoba was looking at the mask on Clear’s face.

At that point, Clear thought he was caught less off-guard by the question. It was probably to be expected he'd get all sort of questions about him covering his face in the beginning. In the middle of musing, Clear tilted his head from side to side. “Umm, I don’t think so. Mink told me not to when I sing. But that means for the rest of the time I can. That’s probably good enough.”

Aoba made a humming sound. “Have you been wearing that for a long time?” When Clear stopped rocking his head and glanced over, Aoba waved his hand. “Sorry, you totally don’t have to answer that. I don’t mean to be nosy or anything.”

“It’s okay,” Clear said, voice just a little bit higher, his response too quick. It was all that he could think to say. He wasn’t sure how long he’d worn the mask either. And then before the mask, it was his scarf, the very one always draped around his neck. Where it had come from he wasn’t too sure - it was a gift from Grandpa though, he knew that much. But really, it looked like as far back as he could remember, he just always had the awareness that his appearance wasn't normal, and he wanted to hide it so that everyone would stop staring at him. 

Aoba had gone back to turning his music player on and was scrolling through the songs. Clear leaned in a bit to ask what kind of music he liked to listen to. What came out instead was, “It’s been a long time that I’ve worn it. I don’t know how long exactly though.”

As soon as he stopped talking, he felt ridiculous for admitting it after such a long silence. Aoba’s thumb froze in place over his music player the moment Clear started talking, and although he seemed slightly surprised by the confession, there wasn’t a trace of anger or confusion on his face. He just calmly listened, then blinked, backing away a bit. Clear also noticed just how close he’d gotten and moved away, fidgeting.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Aoba went back to the device in his hand, an odd sort of smile on his face. It wasn’t unkind, but Aoba looked like he was trying to hide it.

The door right next to the bench opened, and both of them jumped at Mink leering down at the two of them. After an acknowledging glance to Aoba, he moved straight to Clear. “How long are you going to keep me waiting, Toue?”

It was all he could do not to squeak out his apology and then shuffle to the door, his shoulders hunched inward. Aoba gave him a little wave before Mink closed the door behind them.

The classroom was a lot smaller than the main one, more the size of an office. There was another upright piano, and several music stands against the wall next to a large shelf of various folders and CDs. Mink took his seat at the piano, and Clear scrambled to get in front of the lone stand ready beside him. There was a sheet of music already propped there, but Mink closed the folder and put it away before sliding something else in instead. Clear’s eyes roamed the page, trying to memorize the time signature and reading the notes ahead like Mink might take it back again at any second.

“I saw it mentioned that you’d taken choir classes.” Mink was shuffling through some music sheets of his own. He’d put on some glasses, and it made his face look a bit more gentle.

Before he could forget, Clear slowly pulled his mask down. “Yes, but it was a long time ago.”

“What did you sing as?”

“My teacher made me a tenor, I think.”

Mink nodded, pulling out the sheet he’d apparently been looking for and propping it on top of the piano. “This will be a good place for you to start then. From measure one.”

* * *

After his lesson was done, Clear had forgotten all about Aoba until Mink told him to “fetch Seragaki” as he was walking out the door. He pulled his mask back up, and looked to the bench. Aoba was laying back on it again, and judging by how slow his breathing was, he’d fallen asleep with his music playing. While Clear didn’t want to disturb him again, he also didn’t want Mink to be the one to do it, so he poked at Aoba’s stomach once more.

Without opening his eyes, Aoba stirred and let out a reluctant groan. “Is it my time?”

Clear nodded, but remembered he couldn’t be seen. “Yes, it is, sorry.”

Aoba let out another groan, but he sat up to stretch. “Ahh… Thanks, Clear. How’d it go?”

“Well, that’s…”

“He’s more intimidating one-on-one, isn’t he?”

“You could say that, yes,” laughed Clear.

“Oh man…” He put away his headphones and got up from the bench. “Oh hey, before I forgot - do you have a phone?”

Clear fished it out from his pocket and held it out uncertainly. It probably wasn’t the best time to make a phone call, and he was going to tell Aoba as much but he’d already plucked it from his hand.

After some fiddling with it, he gave it back with a satisfied grin. “There you go, my number. Text me when you can so I can get yours, okay?”

Number? Texting? Text _Aoba?_ The words scattered about in Clear’s head like a pile of dropped books, and he could only get some actual semblance of what happened when he looked down at his phone to see a new contact on the screen. He fumbled, opening up another screen to compose a new message when the classroom door opened, and Mink glared at the two of them once again.

“Seragaki,” he said, sounding strained for patience, “get inside.”

“R-right.” Aoba gave Clear another little wave and slipped by Mink into the room.

That left Clear to make the mistake of continuing to stand there, and then make eye-contact with Mink. Clear laughed nervously at his disapproving expression, shoved his phone away, and high-tailed it out of there. Only when he was outside the building did Clear slow down again and start looking for some place he could loiter for a bit. He settled for simply leaning against the brick wall, then pulled out his phone again.

It wasn’t difficult to find the new contact in his list, which previously was composed only of Grandpa, his brothers, and Noiz. The new addition was strange, and Clear closed the screen then brought it up again just to make sure it was still there.

_Aoba gave me his number_. Clear fought back a smile. If he put in his number like this, and asked for Clear’s as well, then that meant Aoba wanted to keep in contact with him outside of class, right?

Feeling like he leveled up somehow, Clear stared happily at Aoba’s name and number. Oh, he’d need a contact photo to put in. He wondered if he could ask if… His cheeks filled with heat. Okay, no, maybe he couldn’t exactly ask for a picture of Aoba just yet. For the time being, just because he was in no hurry to go anywhere, he went through his gallery and settled on an image of a bluefire jellyfish that was the same hue as Aoba’s hair. As for the text message Aoba told him to send… He had no idea what he should put.

_This was a lot easier with Noiz somehow_... Clear pushed his bottom lip out. _Well, I’ll think of something. Aoba said to do it when I could_. He put his phone away again and then started making his way back to the dorms. On the way, he drifted back and forth between figuring out the words to a song he was making up, and what exactly his first text to Aoba should be.

A familiar face caught his eye as he walked past another building. There were concrete steps leading down, and below sat two people on a bench. Clear recognized the one in black leggings and pink shirt to be Sei. As for the other guy, Clear could only assume he was a friend of Sei’s, what with how closely they were sitting together.

_Should I say hi?_ No, that wasn’t an option. He’d probably have to go down there to get noticed, and while Clear was sure he liked Sei, he didn’t want to have anyone new see him. He shouldn’t disrupt them anyway.

The guy’s hand slid up Sei’s thigh, disappearing under his skirt. Not a second later, Sei shoved the hand away, but continued talking. Clear realized he’d slowed down, growing suspicious. That jerk of movement was definitely firm, almost impatient like Sei had dealt with it already and was annoyed. Even so, Sei didn’t seem very disturbed, but the next time the guy tried to touch him, Sei pulled his hand away more insistently.

“Please don’t do that.”

“What? You look cute. For a guy, you know. I seriously forget sometimes.”

“I’m _not_ a girl,” Sei said, voice a little louder than Clear had previously heard it. “Even if I was, I don’t want you doing that.”

The guy leaned in to bury his nose into Sei’s neck. Clear couldn’t catch what he said, but Sei shoved him back this time with a wrinkle of his nose. Before the guy could grab Sei’s arm, Clear was dashing down the stairs.

“Sei!” He stopped at the bottom, just a few feet from them.

Sei gave him a bewildered look, but he seemed to recognize Clear. Beside him, the guy backed away from Sei, dropping his arm like it was a burning piece of iron. Now that that was taken care of though, Clear wasn’t sure what to do now that he had dragged himself into the situation. It seemed to be the right thing to do though; Sei moved over to him with a sudden smile.

“Clear, hello!”

“Ah, hi, Sei.” Clear tried to mirror the casual excitement in Sei’s voice. Maybe he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Clear was almost convinced that what happened hadn’t even bothered Sei. But when Sei grabbed his sleeve, his grip was just a little too tight. He fumbled for more words. “Ah, um, Aoba told me where you were, so I was wondering if, um, we could go right now? To the, uh, place?” Oh boy, he was awful.

Luckily, Sei was more than willing to fill in the spaces, and had the acting ability for it. “Of course!” He hooked his arm around Clear’s then turned to give his not-so-much friend a sweet smile. “I’ll see you later, Zachary.”

Before Clear could watch the reaction that must’ve enticed, he was dragged back up the steps by Sei. Even when they got to the top, he continued to lead Clear along, until they were a reasonable distance after crossing the street. They took refuge in the lobby of the dorms, which wasn’t too full, but had just enough chatter going on that they could have their own little corner without anyone being able to eavesdrop. Sei let out a sigh as he plopped himself down on one of the plush chairs, looking like he wanted nothing more than to take a nap right there. Clear wanted to laugh from how much it reminded him how Aoba had been on the bench earlier.

“Are you okay, Sei?”

Sei brought his knees up to his chest to make himself comfortable and offered Clear a smile. “Yes, thank you, Clear. You really saved me back there.”

“Was that person your friend?” Clear couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice - not just for Sei, but also because he wondered if _this_ was what Noiz meant by seeing relationships as being taken advantage of if he wasn’t careful.

Sei’s lips pursed like the insinuation disgusted him. “No, not at all. He just has class in the same building as me.”

To say the least, Clear was horrified people like that existed on campus, and thought that they could be so...assertive like _that_ to others, especially toward someone another wasn't friends with. How could people do such a thing and not see how it was bad? Sei had clearly signaled his refutes, yet still he was harassed. It was the kind of stuff Clear had only heard about. He hoped that he caught only the first happening of that kind of action to Sei. With his overall nonchalant attitude about it though, it really made Clear wonder.

As if he were reading Clear’s thoughts, Sei’s expression softened to something more like resignation. He shrugged. “Well, that’s not really the first time that’s happened to me. Guys just like thinking of me as a girl because of how I look. It's more convenient for them.”

So Sei realized it. Even without the clothes, his face was still just soft enough to look like a girl. Clear couldn’t help but think that he himself looked like a boy with or without a skirt on. Sure, there were some that assumed that how he dressed automatically put him under a certain sex, but after they did a double-take, it was obvious that Clear was too tall, his face a bit too angular, his shoulders too broad. He didn’t look like a girl at all. But if Sei never said anything about it, he could probably be a girl if he wanted.

_What am I even thinking?_ Clear quickly shoved those thoughts in a box and kicked it away like it held something terrifying in it. He focused instead on the comforting pastel pink of Sei’s top.

Then, for no reasons connected to himself, Clear asked, “Have you dressed like that for a long time?”

Sei blinked, and automatically Clear worried if he said something offensive. Before he could start a tirade of apologies however, Sei tilted his head, looking off to the side. “Hmm, let’s see. The interest has been around all my life. But I guess I actually started ever since I was around ten or eleven. I just liked the clothes girls got to wear more than the ones boys had to. They’re cute, you know?”

Clear could distinctly recall his eyes lingering just a bit too long at certain displays in clothing stores, of floral and pastel prints and dresses that looked so fun to twirl in. Lowering his eyes a bit, he was thankful for the mask that hid his budding, empathetic smile. “Yes, they really are.” He jolted back to himself, clearing his throat. There was one thing he wondered about. “Sei, you’re still a boy though?”

There really should be someone who should come by just to clamp Clear’s mouth closed. Sheer word vomit was coming out and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Once again though, Sei took his question with patience. “You mean do I consider myself a boy even though I wear these?” He let the question sink in properly before answering. “I do.” His words didn’t hold any accusation toward Clear, but rather the calmness of a simple statement. Clear found himself deeply reassured by them.

At least, until Sei quirked a smile at him. “You’ve made yourself all pretty before, haven’t you?”

Clear gaped, torn between running all the way back to his room or just remaining like a startled deer in his seat. When he closed his jaw, his heart was throbbing under his chest, panicked and wanting to scamper off just like the rabbit Noiz said he was. His throat tensed, trying to figure out how to work again, and when it finally stuttered to life, Clear's words were quiet but tight, seamless to keep the anxiety from leaking out. “How did you know that?” Was there some signal he was giving off? Were his questions too intrusive?

The smile on Sei’s lips dropped, his eyes widening just the slightest bit. “I was just joking,” he said, his own voice lowering. Now Clear’s stomach dropped along with that smile but then Sei reached out and tugged at his pants. “Clear, oh my god, have you really?” His black eyes, lined with glittery eyeshadow, were shining.

Never quick on his feet (as earlier proved), Clear couldn’t lie. He slumped his shoulders, nodding. “I-I have… I mean, there’s a bag in my room, but…”

A look of understanding crossed Sei’s face, softening his apparent excitement. He slid from his seat and wriggled into the space left on Clear’s. The close proximity made Sei look like he was practically on top of Clear, his legs over Clear’s lap. He looked like Clear's girlfriend just lounging affectionately with him. With his finer details presented like this, there was no doubt that Sei was utterly beautiful.

Now closer and apparently more comfortable, Sei gave Clear a gentle look. “Is this normal for you?”

“What?” Clear couldn't remember that word ever having anything to do with him.

“Normal," Sei repeated. "Do you usually wear clothes like mine?”

Clear stammered, unable to find words to respond when Sei was adopting such an understanding and patient tone. It wasn’t like Sei was an unsafe person to talk to in the first place. If anyone could ever understand Clear on this, it would be Sei. Even though they hadn't known each other long, Clear was sure that he could trust Sei. Not to mention this was such a huge secret he had, and to have the opportunity to finally share it, with someone who was like him no less, tempted Clear's tongue to form words to his long-locked thoughts and desires.

Allowing himself to relax, Clear started to nod his head, but then stopped. “It’s not really like that. I mean, it’s not normal for me to wear them. I’d like to! But I just…”

“You think you shouldn’t.”

“Isn’t that right?”

Sei got more firmly serious, patting both of Clear’s cheeks. “No, it’s not. Those are the rules of society maybe, but I’m not going to stop wearing what I want just because it makes some people uncomfortable that there’s a penis under this skirt.” He put his hands down, slowly though as he looked down. “Although, I do understand if you have circumstances that make you not want to do what you’d like. Everyone’s situation is different, after all. Me and Aoba’s family are very open, so I’m one of the lucky ones.”

Ah, that was right. When Aoba had introduced Sei, there hadn’t been any trace of annoyance or disapproval in his voice or face. Sei was who he was to Aoba. As for his own family of his brothers and Grandpa, Clear knew they loved him. Even the twins. But what would they do if they ever knew? The thought was something he didn't like entertaining.

“My family might know," Clear said. "I mean, there have been close calls with them before. But they’re not bad people, so it’s not them I get worried about.”

“But there _are_ bad people?” Sei prompted quietly.

Clear raised his eyes from the floor and took a glance around the room. Everyone else in the lobby was absorbed in their work or chatting or watching movies on their laptops. They probably weren’t bad people, but how could he know? Just by looking at their normalcy, they seemed to be a threat because he was so strange in comparison. He never looked normal before, and he didn't want to make it worse by crossdressing. It was better to hide. He was good at hiding.

He looked back to Sei and nodded. “Yes.”

Sei hummed in consideration, simply sitting there half on top of Clear. After Clear thought one too many seconds of silence passed, Sei said with a kind smile, “Well you know, if you ever need a safe place to do it, you can come to me and Aoba’s apartment. Since I do it, I don’t think he or Mizuki will mind at all.” At Clear’s tension, he amended, “Or we could have my door closed and they don’t have to see at all.”

“That’s…” _Very kind_. No one had given him such an opportunity before.

Sei seemed to take Clear’s hesitation as something negative. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m sorry, I guess I just got a little excited. I don’t get to meet other people with these interests a lot.” He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “I promise I won’t say anymore about it.”

“N-no, that’s not it at all!” Clear said, louder than he intended. Although he got nothing more than a glance above a laptop or two, he ducked his head down, thankful his blush couldn’t be seen. “Um, you’re the first person who really _knows_. I’m just...so relieved I don’t know what to do.”

At that, Sei gave one of his pretty smiles again. He bumped their shoulders together. “It’s nice to know you’re not the only one, right?”

“Yes.” A great weight he didn’t even know was there seemed to lift from Clear’s heart at being able to admit it. Shyly, he asked, “Did you mean it when you said I could go see you if I wanted to....”

Expression nothing short of encouraging, Sei nodded. “Of course! As a matter of fact, would you like to come over this weekend?”

The weekend! That was already tomorrow! It was so soon, and Clear’s heart started to hammer. Not in anxiety or fear, of that he was pretty sure. Right now, he was the most excited he’d ever been in his life, almost as much as when he put on a dress for the first time, or when he got his acceptance letter from the academy.

The overflow of emotions must’ve shown even with his mask on; Sei was giggling. “Do you have a phone?”

And with that, Clear gained another contact on his phone. Sei immediately texted his address and told Clear to just say the word and they could set up a “play date” whenever he wanted. Before he left, he gave Clear a little hug, promising not to tell Aoba or Mizuki anything. Clear watched him go, a weird sort of fluttering warmth spreading rapidly through his body. Charged with the new positive energy, Clear all but skipped to his room.

Noiz wasn’t there, so he couldn’t share in the abundance of exciting news he had, but he wasn’t sure if Noiz would’ve cared anyway. Ah, heck with it, _Clear_ wouldn’t care if Noiz listened to him or not, but he was practically bursting at the seams to talk about his new friends, of how much he was learning, and how good it felt to meet people who _actually_ wanted to talk to him and help him.

After setting Sei’s contact photo to the beautiful purple-striped jellyfish, Clear opened up a new window to send a text.

_thank you for exchanging numbers with me!! (´▽`ʃƪ)_

Clear didn’t think he’d get a response any time soon, but almost as soon as he took off his mask, his phone buzzed. A bluefire jellyfish appeared on screen, and right below it, the message of, _Of course! It’ll be nice to talk outside of class right?_

_yes! thank you aoba! ∩( ・ω・)∩_

_You already said that lol_

_then again! thank you! ヽ(*≧ω≦)ﾉ_

_You sound really happy. Did something good happen?_

Clear could hardly contain his smile. He just wanted to hug Aoba right then. He wondered if he’d let Aoba see him in a dress. At that moment, it didn’t seem as anxiety-inducing as it was half an hour ago.

_yes! lots of good things! ヾ(^▽^ヾ)_

When Aoba didn’t reply right away, Clear’s mood dropped a decimal. Not enough to dampen his spirits, but he did want to talk a little longer. The good feelings of friendship were almost too good to be true, and Clear wanted to bask in the peak of them while he could.

His phone buzzed three minutes later. _Think you can share those good feelings? I need a pick me up. Wanna hang?_

Clear’s heart did leaps. His hands shook a little too much and he had to re-type his response several times before he was finally able to send it. _oh yes please! (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))_

_Cool. We can talk about how scary mink is lmao_

After setting up a meeting place at Candy Drops after Clear’s last class, their conversation ended with promises to see the other later. It wasn’t until a few minutes afterward that it hit him - he made a plan with Aoba, and Sei too for that matter. Clear had never made plans before, at least not ones that didn’t relate to school somehow. But now…

Clear flopped back on his bed, hugging his jellyfish pillow in glee.

* * *

Around two weeks later, Clear thought about texting Sei. He hung out with him and Aoba and Mizuki a lot lately. Mostly they went for frozen yogurt and ice cream at Candy Drops or around campus to do homework together, but Clear always had fun in their company anyway. He still wore his mask, and other than the initial questions, no one brought it up again. If they had to eat, Clear did so slowly so that he wouldn’t have to pull down his mask as often. Sometimes though, he caught Aoba looking. Every time, Aoba would look away again and pretend to be absorbed in whatever Sei and Mizuki were talking about.

Clear kept wondering if it was okay yet to consider them his friends. They smiled and joked with him too, and every time he thought he might be out of place, they'd make him laugh. Sei shared his frozen yogurt with Clear the same way he did with Aoba, and Mizuki would close Clear's binder and say they should all skip on homework that evening. One day, he even went out with them so that Sei could shop for some new strings for his violin. The entire ride to and from, Clear stared at them, their faces in the sunlight as Mizuki complained about Aoba's choice of music, to which he got the declaration of, "Driver decides the music!" That was all the kind of stuff friends did, right? Clear surely liked to think so. 

Noiz on the other hand was still someone Clear was on the fence about. He barely initiated any conversation and for some odd reason seemed to only eat pizza. Clear brought home a frozen yogurt and gave it to Noiz just to see if he could eat anything else. During the weekend, Noiz went out at night, but otherwise stayed in bed until the afternoon. Clear wondered what he did when he ventured out.

Well, while Noiz was a work in progress that might not be going anywhere anytime soon, there was another person Clear was starting to get along with.

“You’re laughing.”

Ren was frowning, his eyes just a little bit wider. It almost looked like he was pouting, what with the blunt point of his statement.

Really, Clear was trying not to laugh. They were in practice rooms again, and by that time, it was an unspoken agreement between the two that they were always going to be each other’s partner, something both of them could find comfort in. For their assignment, their director had given each pair of partners a duet to do, more or less based on their vocal range, of course. Ren and Clear had been handed a copy of "I'll Cover You" from RENT. Being a fan of the musical, Clear had been excited about it, but he could tell right away that Ren was having difficulties. Although he could definitely sing well, it wasn't until being handed such an upbeat song that Clear could hear Ren's voice wasn't putting any of that dynamic energy in.  

Feeling bad by seeing the embarrassed spread of red on Ren’s cheeks, Clear waved his hands, shaking his head. “No, no, not at all! I think that was good!”

Ren wasn’t convinced. He hunched his shoulders and looked like he wanted to curl up under his chair, but instead he settled for rolling and unrolling the script in his hands. “I’m not very good at this. You make it seem so natural.”

Smiling from the compliment, Clear shrugged. “Well, I think it depends on the character and song too, you know. I don’t think I could do anything that required me to act or sing all businesslike. You've just got to find what you’re comfortable with.”

“I suppose so.” Ren sat down, looking at the script in despair. Since they were required have to perform it in front of the class next week, it wasn’t just a simple exercise. They’d be in front of people, so Clear could guess that was why Ren was feeling so anxious. Ironically enough, if it wasn’t for Ren, Clear would probably be very much in the same state. While Ren’s demeanor made him safe and approachable in the first place to Clear, he was also kind. He complimented Clear a lot, albeit at the expense of derailing himself.

_It’d be nice if I could give him some confidence too_... Clear jutted his bottom lip out in thought. In the time he spent together with Ren, they’d gotten more comfortable around each other and Ren had certainly opened up more as he started talking in actual sentences instead of just a word. Before he knew it, Clear was actually looking forward to class because of Ren.

_Maybe if we spent more time together, I could try helping Ren more…?_ His phone buzzed in his pocket, surprising him. It’d been doing that lately ever since he exchanged numbers with Aoba and Sei. He still hadn’t gotten used to the sudden activity on his phone, but it wasn’t an unwelcome change. A message from Sei popped up on his screen - apparently he was really excited about the new tights he found and wanted to know if Clear wanted to see them.

Ah, that was right. He still hadn’t gotten around to actually going to Sei and Aoba’s apartment yet. The more time passed though, the more Clear thought about going over. Seeing his bag buried during the day and thinking about how open and free Sei was about his appearance made Clear crave the same. Maybe this weekend would be it, and he’d finally go through with it.

_Oh!_ But first…

Ren was chewing on his bottom lip and tugging on the skin with his teeth as he looked over the script more. Clear snapped him out of his spiral of anxiety by plopping himself cross-legged right in front of him. “Ren, do you have a phone?”

His tone must’ve been too excited; Ren froze right in place. “I do. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking, we have until next week to practice. Maybe we can meet up over the weekend and work together, if you want to.” Clear tried to reign his tone in a little more for Ren’s sake and not to scare him off, but he still wriggled in place, his grin probably apparent even with his mask.

As much as was expected, Ren hesitated, but it didn’t look like he necessarily wanted to say no. After glancing away, he returned to shyly meet Clear’s gaze. “That wouldn’t be an inconvenience for you?”

“Not at all! We’re each other’s partner, so I want to help you!” Clear failed completely to hold back that time, and actually reached out to slap his hands on top of Ren’s knees like a puppy. He watched as Ren’s cheeks colored once more, but a steady smile worked its way on his lips.

“I would really appreciate that, actually,” he finally said, laughing awkwardly at the end. He pulled out his phone as Clear clapped his hands in glee. Worrying on his bottom lip again though, Ren murmured, “I’m sorry you’re stuck with someone as unskilled as me.”

Clear waved him off. “You don’t have to apologize! You have such a mesmerizing voice, so there’s no way you’re unskilled. If we practice more, you’ll get good at this too, right?” He gazed at Ren expectantly, who in turn nodded, albeit as if he had no choice but to.

“I suppose that's right,” he said. “You’re very optimistic, Clear.”

“Really? My brothers always say I’m too energetic.” Clear started typing in his number into Ren’s phone after it was handed to him, and so he didn’t think too deeply of the compliment given to him. Besides, it wasn’t like he had much of opportunity to find out what kind of person he was like when he forged so few relationships. “Okay, now you text me so I’ll have your number.”

As Ren typed away a message on his phone, he said, “I don’t think it’s a terrible trait. That kind of energy probably can bring relief to other people. At least, you’ve helped me a little.”

_That_ Clear heard. It took him too long to even process it, because at the same time his phone buzzed with Ren’s message, their director was going around to dismiss everyone until next class. Ren shouldered his backpack and waved to Clear with the usual “have a nice day” before leaving the room. By the time Clear stumbled out a reply, Ren was gone and the voices of his departing classmates started to fade away too.

With what Ren just said… Clear looked down at his new message, feeling stunned.

_Hello, Clear. I’m free on the weekend, so anytime for our practice will be fine. I will do my best for us_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't seen RENT in like four years but I do remember liking a lot of the songs so I started re-watching it. I'm probably gonna be watching a lot of musicals for the sake of this fic actually, but I have like zero complaints about that.


	5. Track 05: Phone with No Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A song to listen to when being different can be right then very very wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter, I can't wait to write more stuff like this. Save for the last part. No, maybe even the last part. I love you, Clear, I swear *puts him inside shirt*

Sei called almost as soon as Clear sent the text. Luckily by then he didn’t have any classes and was then pondering if he wanted to go back to his room to be met with another offer of pizza or if he wanted to try something closer to actual food.

Up until that point, his communication with Sei and Aoba was just through text, so Sei calling was unexpected to say the least. If there was any kind of phone etiquette, Clear wasn’t aware of it. He supposed it would be the same as talking face-to-face, so he shrugged away his panic and answered. “Hello?” 

“Ah, Clear! I’m sorry for not just sending a message, but I thought this would just be faster.” Sei’s voice was even quieter and huskier to Clear’s ear. He sounded happy though, despite his mild composure.

Stepping off to the side under a tree, Clear tugged down his mask so that Sei could hear him better. “Is it because you got my text?”

“Yes! You’ve got the address already, right? Well, if you need a ride, Mizuki or Aoba can drive, but since I don’t know if you really want to keep this between us or not…”

Oh, he hadn’t thought that far quite yet. Instead of going back and forth with thoughts that would only make him anxious, Clear instead occupied himself with just being able to spend time with Sei, anticipating what they’d do together. Although he now knew Aoba and Mizuki wouldn’t judge him, he still was on the fence about anyone else knowing about his crossdressing. He _did_ want Aoba and Mizuki to see him dressed like Sei - that wasn’t a debate - but he just wasn’t sure _when_.

_Maybe I’ll know once I actually_... Well, back to the conversation. “I can catch a bus, I don’t mind!”

“If you’re sure,” Sei said politely. “Was there a specific time you were thinking of?”

“Um, not really. I’m sorry, when are you free?”

“Anytime before the evening is fine. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, that would be fine!”

Sei giggled. “Okay, then tomorrow around one, you can come by. It’s okay if you arrive earlier or later though. Just text me when you’re here.”

“Okay! Ah.” Clear cradled his phone closer, like he could actually sidle next to Sei, hiding his face so that no one could see his overflowing happiness. “Thank you so much for this, Sei.”

For a beat or two, there was silence, then another, warmer laugh. “You’re welcome anytime, Clear. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After short, friendly goodbyes, they hung up. Then, while he still had his phone out, Clear proposed a plan to Ren for them to meet at one of their places on Sunday. Ren replied if it would be alright if they practiced at Clear’s, which Clear had no problem with complying with. There were only two sets of dormitories at the academy, and both of them were right next to each other, so whichever one they chose, it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience, distance-wise. He’d have to ask Ren later where his dorm was, so that maybe they could visit each other more often.

Noiz was surrounded by various pieces of equipment and wires when Clear came in. He had some bulky headphones on, and had one hand press them to his ear as he concentrated on something on another, larger laptop he had. Clear couldn’t help but stare at it all as he dumped his bag down and made for a slice of pizza, his previous intentions popping to thin air.

(By this time, Noiz just let Clear take some if he wanted without complaints. Clear did his best to offer Noiz little things here and there in thanks. The good side was that at least Noiz tossed the pizza boxes as soon as they were empty.)

“What are you doing?” Clear pulled down his mask as he sat on his bed and stared pointedly from electronic to electronic.

With the pause that followed, Clear thought maybe Noiz didn’t hear him - or was ignoring him - but then Noiz slid down his headphones with a sigh. “I’ve got a collaboration to work on. It’s pretty much gonna be shit though, if one of my partners’ samples are anything to go by.”

“A collaboration?” That sounded pretty amazing though. He wondered what Noiz’s group mates’ sounds were like. Come to think of it, he still hadn’t quite asked Noiz what he did. He got the gist by looking around that Noiz didn’t play an instrument. Even if he did, he didn’t understand the need for all the technology. “Do your group mates do what you do?”

“Yeah.”

“And...what is that exactly? I think you mentioned it when we first started talking about it, but I don’t think I understood it.”

Noiz paused in the middle of adjusting some settings to something beside him, then looked up at Clear. “I do synthesizing. It’s like I can make most any sound I want, instrument or not. I don’t have to know how to play the instrument to make music with it, I just produce it.”

“You synthesize it.”

Noiz gave one of his sardonic smiles, which of course meant Clear was stating the obvious.

Undeterred, Clear leaned forward more. “That’s amazing! Could I hear something you synthesize?”

“Maybe later.” Noiz shrugged. “Right now, I have to figure out how to cover for these god awful sounds…”

It sounded like Noiz was having a rougher time with his project than Clear was with his with Ren. “It’s really a lot of work already, isn’t it? With all this group work.”

Noiz made a sound of deep agreement. Clear got the gist of his thoughts before Noiz said them: “I work better alone. I don’t do collaborations.”

Thinking of Ren, Clear said, “Well, it’s a way to meet new people, right?” He got the impression Noiz wouldn’t agree to _that_ , and the question was pretty heavy-handed - so naturally, his real question was seen by Noiz within a second.

Sure enough, he made a face. “I’m not interested in meeting them.” It seemed that was that, and he continued fiddling with his synthesizer, bobbing his head slightly in time to the beat from his headphones.

Maybe Noiz wasn’t interested, but Clear wondered if he ever could be. Maybe he had actual friends back at his hometown and didn’t want to make any new ones. Or maybe that callous attitude toward relationships was Noiz’s iron-clad code. That would mean Noiz didn’t consider Clear a friend, even though Clear was trying to make it happen.

Clear ate in contemplative silence, until he remembered something he wanted to bring up. “Noiz?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m working on a collaboration of sorts as well, in my theatre class. So my partner is coming over on Sunday so that we can practice together. Is that alright?”

Noiz shrugged. “That’s fine. I think I’m going out to see someone myself.”

Unsure about that tone, Clear asked, “Is it that person that came over that one time?”

“Probably.”

“I thought it was better to deal with him if you were in your own territory, as you said!”

“I also said he doesn’t scare me. Besides, he’s being a coward and won’t come by here anymore.” A low, devilish chuckle left him. “Apparently one of his many stupid admirers recognized him and now he’s worried about quote-unquote ‘scandalous rumors’. Serves him right for having the type of reputation that insinuates that.”

Although not completely able to follow, Clear was starting to see more of a truth in Noiz’s claim that this person was a source of amusement for him. Clear almost felt sorry for the poor guy. He wondered if he was aware of the give-take deal Noiz had with relationships.

“Hey,” Noiz rummaged around and brought out a mic, “do something for me.”

Speaking of give and take… “Yes?”

“Relax, I’m not gonna ask for a blow job or anything like that.”

“E-Excuse me?”

Noiz narrowed his eyes. “We’ll save that for later if you really want to."

“Save _what_ for later!?”

“I need you to replicate that sound you made the other day when we played videogames and you accidentally activated that boss - that totally destroyed you, by the way.”

“What?”

“You know, you’re not going to get very far in this academy if your hearing is this poor.” Noiz got up from his bed, bringing his microphone with him and holding it out to Clear. “Come on, your scream is just enough to cover up the messes in the collaboration.”

Clear wasn’t sure if he wanted to be in the room at that moment. But Noiz kept him trapped until he more-or-less repeated the same sound from before. Of course, all that screaming and Clear’s complaints for Noiz just to let him go drew attention from their neighbors who apparently took it upon themselves to get Katherine. _That_ led to embarrassing private conversation in which she pulled Clear to the side and said if Noiz ever hurt him, she wouldn’t hesitate to kick him out. Although Clear seriously doubted anyone could make Noiz do anything, he defended his strange roommate.

For the remainder of the day - and likely the rest of the year - however, Clear was self-aware about every little sound he made.

* * *

Someone in room 509 was fond of going to the stairwell to practice on their flute every weekend morning at nine. It irritated Noiz, but Clear welcomed the sounds that morning as he woke up, butterflies fluttering in his chest when he realized what day it was.

It felt like too much time had passed since Clear last indulged himself in the contents of his secret bag. Pulling it out made him feel nostalgic, like he was looking at an old friend. A friend he met on accident and he wanted to talk to, but he could only meet them in secret because grown ups said they were a bad influence even though you knew that wasn’t the case at all. That kind of friend. Clear had bought the clothes as quickly as he could, ready to say they were for a friend or sister if he was so much as looked at questioningly. But the transaction had gone smoothly, and Clear could hardly believe he had actually gone out and done that.

He wasn’t sure exactly what Sei had planned for them, but he took a shot with bringing his own things. So, the top of the bag rolled up, he sat it on his lap during the bus ride.

Sei and the others lived roughly twenty minutes from campus by bus, at a fancier-looking apartment complex than Clear had anticipated. The pale-blue paint and black roofs made them look almost fairytale-like in a way that was out of place with the rest of the high-tech and fast city. It reminded him of home.

Actually finding their apartment was an easy task when it turned out they were located on the outside. He already texted Sei beforehand, and now he waited outside their door, feeling very warm under his scarf and mask despite the weather drawing near the sixties lately.

The lock turned and the door opened to reveal Sei’s face peeping out. When he spotted Clear edged away from the door, he laughed. “Are you trying out for a spy? Come inside.” He retreated back inside, and Clear tentatively followed, hugging his bag to his chest.

Inside, the place was more clean than he expected. The living room had a scatter of videogame boxes stacked on top of each other, and the occasional beer bottle sitting somewhere, but aside from that, the apartment seemed well-kept. There was some noise in the room right next to the door, but Sei led him along.

“That’s Aoba’s room,” he said. “I told him not to come in my room today because I’d have someone come over, so we’ll be in peace.”

“Where’s Mizuki?”

“He works part time at a record store on the weekends. He’s only a part time student because of his work - on weekdays, its a tattoo shop.”

Clear widened his eyes in awe - first Mizuki was skilled in more than one instrument, but now he held down positions as a student and employee? _Mizuki is truly an amazing person_.

Sei went down the hallway and slipped into the room with clear beads dangling halfway down from the doorframe. Clear poked at them as he went inside, fascinated by their shine from the sunlight spilling into the room. He supposed that meant the room with the collage of drawings on it was Mizuki’s.

The first thing Clear could note about Sei’s room was the random abundance of stuffed animals scattered around. They sat on his bed, his desk, on his bookshelves… And despite the overall order and cleanliness, Sei owned an assortment of things besides the stuffed animals - CDs, books, nail polish, lotions, more beads that hung from his fan and window, and even white Christmas lights framed on the walls overlooking his bed.

“You have...a lot of pretty things, Sei,” Clear couldn’t help but comment.

Sei laughed, sitting down on his bed. “Thank you.” He plucked off one of the bears from his bed and hugged it to him.

Clear poked at the beads hanging from the fan. “I really like these.”

“I can tell you where to get those, so you can have them for your room too. I will be showing you a lot of things today anyway, won’t I?” Sei nodded to the bag. “Is that your, for lack of better word, stash?”

Warmth flooded Clear’s cheeks, the rumpled paper of the bag feeling very out place with the rest of Sei’s room, and he nodded. “Um, but I don’t really have anything much in it…”

“That’s okay!” Sei scooted over and patted the empty space beside him. “Go ahead and try something on now. I’ll go ahead and close this.” He got up for the door.

Clear went over to the bed and started laying out his clothes. There was his yellow broom skirt, and his shorter purple skirt that was probably the most special and favorite one because of the outer layer of sparkly tulle that he loved to swish around in. In the end, he decided on his navy-blue vintage dress, with its patterns of tiny light-blue hearts. When he turned to Sei, he pointed to the door beside his desk that he said led to the bathroom.

He closed the door behind himself and started to get undressed. He folded up his clothes and scarf neatly and slowly, and it wasn’t until he was done that Clear realized he might’ve been stalling for time. All that was left was him in his briefs and holding the dress in his hands. He’d done it before. He’d gone home after a long day of school and pulled out his bag, then taken out something to wear and feel pretty in. He could pretend a lot better that he was pretty in these clothes.

The fabric was soft on his skin, forever smelling of the perfume of its previous owner. It was pleasant and comforting, and only helped Clear feel even better about wearing it. He examined himself in the mirror, all broad shoulders, unshaved legs, and lack of hips, and even the stains on his arms that were no longer covered by his long sleeves. Still, he urged himself to open the door.

Sei waited on his bed on the other side, fiddling with his phone. He lowered it when Clear stepped out, a grin spreading on his face. “Clear!” he exclaimed.

“Ah, yes? I mean, um…” He curled a finger through his hair. “I know it’s nothing like you have, but…”

“Nonsense, you look gorgeous! Ah, hold on!” Apparently inspired, Sei got off his bed and went into the bathroom to rummage into the drawers filled with hair accessories. He pulled out a few clips and then dragged Clear back to his bed. “Hmm, you have such a light tone of skin and hair, so I think any of these would do… Let’s do this flower clip.”

Realizing what Sei was going to do, Clear panicked. Although his hair and mask didn’t cover all of his face, a lot more than he wanted to would be exposed if Sei decided to clip back his hair. He almost flinched away from Sei’s hand, but then his bangs on the left side of his face were brushed back. Clear froze, but slowly relaxed, feeling better as Sei hummed a tune and set two clips in place. He played with the other side, fluffing it up and then withdrawing for inspection.

“There we go! We could do more, but,” he glanced at Clear’s mask for a second then returned to smiling, “this is good enough. You look so cute, Clear!”

A blush was hot on his face, Clear could feel it. “Thank you.”

“Want to give me a twirl?”

Clear wasn’t so sure, but Sei was so persuasive that he stood up. Then, closing his eyes, he spun around and around. His skirt flared out and twirled around his thighs like a flower’s petals caught in the breeze. He spun and spun, letting out a little laugh before flopping on Sei’s bed when the dizziness hit him.

Sei was laughing too, and he clasped Clear’s hands. “Gosh, that’s such a pretty dress! Where did you get it?”

Still trying to catch his breath, Clear said through giggles, “Ah, it was a secondhand store. I thought I’d be fine there since strange people go by all the time.”

Sei nodded in understanding. He was still holding Clear’s hands and he looked down at them. When their hands and arms were put together in contrast like that, the discolorations on Clear’s skin were more apparent. But Sei didn’t say anything, and instead squeezed tighter. “Hey, you can tell me when I’m going overboard with this, but do you maybe want to get your nails painted? We can take it right off before you go, but I just have the most _perfect_ shade of blue for you.”

Oh, he’d never tried painting his nails before. Was that really okay? Although Clear loved the idea of being able to go all out in dressing up, he never got beyond just clothing before. But Sei was making him feel like he was in a safe place, and for once, he could express himself a little more than he normally could. It was like finally having money to spend at the candy shop you've only admired from the outside, and so you had no idea just how much the shop had to offer until you were inside.

So, biting back an ecstatic smile, he nodded. Sei clapped his hands and went to get a small bag that clattered around as he moved it. _This is just like when Tsukimi got to be made into a princess too with Kuranosuke's help. I knew Sei was like him._  Being reminded of his favorite manga series again, Clear was practically vibrating with excitement when Sei came back.

It turned out Sei had a bunch of nail polishes, although most seemed to be darker colors, with many more shades of blue than anything else. Clear wondered if that was Sei’s favorite color - he never would’ve guessed it, with everything else that he owned either being white, black, or pink. Even the tank top and skirt he wore then was black.

They passed the next few minutes making idle chatter as Sei painted Clear’s fingernails. Sei told him little things about himself and Aoba, about their parents that traveled the world and came back every so weeks. When they weren’t around, it was just them and their grandmother. Sei described her as “possibly the most temperamental old woman in the world but she cooks like a goddess”.

Clear in turn gave a mini-synopsis of his younger twin brothers and Grandpa. He also told Sei he’d never gotten his nails painted before, but he really wanted to do it more often now. He told Sei about wanting to wear girls’ clothes almost as far back as he could remember, but never got the courage to ask for any or get some of his own until high school. By the time he got to that topic, Sei was done and they were waiting for the paint to dry when an unfamiliar song blasted in the room.

“Hold on.” Sei reached for his phone and blinked in apparent surprise. “Hello? Mizuki, aren’t you at work? Oh, I see. Yes, that would be a problem. I...could, I suppose.” He glanced at Clear, frowning before returning to the call. “Perchance I couldn’t though, would it be fine if Aoba did it? Okay. Okay. Alright then, one of us will be there in just a bit. Okay, bye, Mizuki.”

“Did something happen?”

Sei got up from the bed with a tired sigh. “Mizuki left some CDs he had to clean here and the customer will be coming sometime today. He asked me to drop them off for him, but…”

Clear got that he was the problem here. “It’s okay, Sei! We can go, I don’t mind at all!”

“Are you sure? We’d be going outside though, and Mizuki’s going to see you.”

Clear shook his head. “It’s really fine! Besides, I think you helped make me feel a lot more confident. So...I think I want to try going outside like this.”

Sei smiled, taking Clear’s hand in a comforting but serious manner. “We live in a pretty big city. People here are used to how others express themselves. The bad people - there are some still out there. You saw that with that guy the other week. But most people will just see you as a person.” He gave a reassuring squeeze at the end, and Clear squeezed back. He was so full of gratitude and admiration for Sei - he sure hoped some of that would stay with him even when he left, or when he woke up for class on Monday. This was a good feeling he had, and he wanted to keep it with him forever, so that he could have the confidence to always dress like this if he wanted.

Aoba was in the kitchen when they walked out, putting a plate into the dish washer. Clear almost turned right back around because _wrong wrong_ he was so _wrong_ about having confidence, about wanting to have Aoba see him dressed like this. It wasn’t the sort of alarm bell he was used to hearing however. Instead of simply thinking Aoba shouldn’t see him like this, Clear looked again to the soft, slender Sei, who could actually pull off these kinds of clothes.

_I’m not pretty like Sei. Aoba can’t see me in a dress, he’ll--_

“Ow!”

_He’ll look at me and bang his head on the cabinet?_

“Aoba, are you okay?” Sei rushed to his brother’s side, sounding very worried.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Aoba said, trying to laugh it off as he rubbed his head. “I just forgot this was open, haha…” He closed the cabinet door and offered Sei a thumbs-up to show he was okay.

Sei visibly relaxed, although he still asked, “Do you want some ice?”

“Really, Sei, I’m fine. Clear, when did you get here? I didn’t know you were the friend Sei was having over.”

Although he’d been concerned as well if Aoba was okay, Clear remained rooted in place, bringing his mask up a little bit higher to cover his surely forming blush. “S-surprise,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Sorry for intruding.”

“No, it’s fine.” Aoba put his hand down, his eyes going up and down Clear before settling on meeting his shy gaze. “You look really nice, Clear.”

His heart tripped over itself, as did his tongue when he tried to think of a reply. All he could settle for was a, “Thank you, Aoba.”

Aoba continued smiling and looking at him, but then Sei must’ve caught his attention in his peripheral. He cleared his throat. “Ah, were you two going somewhere?”

“Mizuki forgot these here.” Sei pointed at the bag sitting on top of the table. “So he called me and asked if I’d drop them off. Clear’s coming with me. Do you want to come too?”

“Hmm.” He took another glance at Clear, which he didn’t understand. Did he really look that strange? Well, he _had_ been wearing pants and long sleeves up until now, so he supposed he couldn’t really blame Aoba. “You know what, I think I will. We can take the car. Let me put on some shoes and we can go.”

* * *

Clear started feeling some first waves of anxiety and kept as close to Sei and Aoba as possible when they walked outside. Some loitering people gave both him and Sei a second glance, but then just as quickly switched their attention to whatever they were doing previously. Sitting in the backseat with Sei and Aoba up front, Clear felt better already. He still kept to himself, pressing his thighs a little uncomfortably close, but music was playing and Aoba got absorbed enough in conversation with Sei that Clear knew he wasn’t being examined like before.

Still, even with that surprise and the staring, Aoba had said he looked nice, right?

The record store Mizuki worked at was at the edge of downtown, between an ice cream shop and a clothing store. Sei and Aoba were still talking to one another when they got out of the car, and Clear took the time to look around some more. He caught someone with rainbow streaks in their hair walking down the other side of the street, and thought maybe Sei had been right about the city.

Inside, a calm-sounding indie band played overhead. Clear was in awe over all the CDs and records and books and posters everywhere. Mizuki was between shelves of them, and his face brightened up at the sight of his friends.

“Hey, thanks for coming by!” he said.

“Forget something?” Aoba said as Sei handed over the bag.

Mizuki forced a laugh. “Yeah, kind of. Thanks for bringing it. And sorry I dragged you all the way out here.” He looked behind them, apparently noticing Clear for the first time. He widened his eyes at first at the new sight, but then gave one of his huge smiles. “Clear, hey, you look great! Did Sei get a hold of you?”

“Rude,” Sei chided with a pout. “You make it sound like I corrupted him.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Mizuki held up his hands for innocence.

Aoba bumped his hip on his twin’s. “You didn’t corrupt anyone. I think you’re cute in a dress, Clear.”

There was no way Clear’s face could’ve felt hotter. At the same time his blush stung his cheeks, Mizuki grinned as Sei raised his brows.

“‘Cute’?”

“Cute, Aoba?”

Now it was time for Aoba’s face to color a light pink. “Shut up,” he muttered.

Mizuki wasn’t letting him off that easy though. “You know, it’s times like this that I remember you _can_ be attracted to men, like when…” Mizuki stopped himself short, his expression freezing like he said something wrong.

Luckily, it seemed like whatever he was worried about was something Aoba was either choosing to ignore, or he simply didn’t hear it. He huffed at Mizuki and reached out to press his knuckles to his cheeks. “You talk wayyy too much, you knowww!”

“Haha--pfft! Haha! Okay, okay, I _give_! Let go, I gotta get these ready for when my customer comes!” He swatted Aoba away then returned to the back of the store.

Still embarrassed over the fact that Aoba had called him _cute_ , Clear nearly missed Aoba going after Sei, who had apparently decided to start wandering off.

Ahh, could that really have happened? Could Aoba really have called him that? It was rare enough for anyone to compliment his looks that Clear didn’t know how to respond. He supposed the moment to questions it had passed now, what with Mizuki’s teasing. Speaking of which, he was also wondering why exactly Mizuki had looked so guilty when he stopped himself from talking. Was Aoba’s sexuality a secret? Clear himself wasn’t very certain about who he was attracted to and had chalked it up to whoever he happened to have feelings for a long time ago.

If Aoba could like boys though, then… Clear blushed a little more when he remembered Aoba’s stare from before. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was flatter himself, so he pushed that thought away before it could even form.

He caught up to Aoba and Sei looking at some CDs together, and so Clear started browsing as well. It’d been awhile since he restocked on music anyway. Downloading was convenient, but Clear still liked the satisfaction of being able to own something physical. Even as he browsed through though, Clear’s mind just drifted again.

Come to think of it, Sei had complimented him too. Although Clear had been really happy then, it was different from the full, airy sort of feeling in his chest right then. Clear thought he knew, but he chalked it up to his head deciding to still associate Aoba with Sly. Having that kind of interest in Aoba wouldn’t be fair if it wasn’t Aoba his feelings were attaching themselves to.

Oh. Clear nearly dropped the CD he pulled off the rack. Oh, he thought of it just now, didn’t he? That he was paying special attention to Aoba. _No, maybe not Aoba at all. I really have to hurry and stop this. It really isn’t fair to Aoba at all, and_...

He tugged up his mask like he wanted it to cover his whole face, and trudged back over to hover near Sei and Aoba. Aoba looked deep in his search, and Sei looked amused.

“Who are you looking for?”

Aoba resurfaced from the stack of CDs at the same time Sei made a light, groaning sound. With the look on Aoba’s face, it was almost like he’d been waiting to be asked that question. “I’m looking for GOATBED. They’re my favorite artist in the whole world! Have you ever heard of them?” He all but rounded on Clear as he spoke, eyes wide and lit up with passion.

Clear nodded. Of course he’d heard of that band before. They were… His expression fell slightly, remembering this excitement before, of nonsensical lyrics being loudly sung during evening bike rides and lively lunch times. “Yes,” he finally managed. “A friend of mine really liked them. Ah, would you like me to help you look, Aoba?”

The light in Aoba’s eyes got brighter. “Would you? You’d be the best in the entire world!”

“Clear, don’t encourage him…”

Whether or not he should wasn’t up for debate, really - not when Aoba looked so happy at his offer. Clear separated off to begin his search in other parts of the store. Clear hummed thoughtfully to himself, if on a low note. He couldn’t pretend he still wanted to keep up trying to separate Sly from Aoba when something like this just happened. Deep down, a part of him was urging the rest to turn around and ask Aoba again about who he was.

_But he didn’t recognize me the first time. Or maybe - it’s that I wasn’t as memorable as he was to me_. The painful revelation nearly had him tripping over a stack of books. Facing the facts though, it really shouldn’t be so shocking if Sly - whoever or wherever he was - forgot all about Clear. No matter how he tried to make a good impression, being meek and polite to others and giving them well wishes made him someone so easily forgotten. Clear didn’t leave an imprint on anyone’s heart. How could he have been so self-centered to assume this whole time that if he saw his so-called best friend again, he’d remember him too? Clear was just that after all: clear. Invisible. Passing through life quietly and politely. People like him didn’t get remembered, nor did they have a home in anyone’s heart.

His body must’ve kept moving while he was slumping down in his thoughts; his finger was running down a random stack of CDs that was nowhere near the “G” section. Could he just lay his head there and go to sleep standing up?

At the same time he started a new row, aimless in his movements, another hand bumped against his.

“Oh, excuse me.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry!” Clear laughed a bit at the end, forcing himself to perk up but his smile fell when he looked into familiar amber eyes. They widened at the sight of him, recognizing who he was - of course, how many people in the world had white hair and wore a mask?

Ren gaped, at an obvious loss for words, and Clear didn’t want wait for them to come. He fumbled over more apologies then ducked his head, dashing the other direction. He found Sei and Aoba now in the clearance section, and he tried his best to compose himself.

Aoba noticed him and offered a smile. “Any luck?”

“Um, no. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Sei with a wave of his hand. “I told Aoba it’d be a long shot since they’re so popular.”

“Brother of little faith,” Aoba chided, poking Sei’s collar. “Well, unless you guys want to look around some more, we can maybe get something to eat and then head back to the apartment.”

Walking forward in the hopes the other two would start following, Clear shook his head. “Actually, I’m going to return to the dorms. I have something to do.”

Both Sei and Aoba followed him out the door, wearing matching expressions of mild disappointment. “Oh,” Aoba said, “well if you have to go then… Do you want to hang out later, maybe?”

He didn’t. No, he did. He shouldn't though. He didn't know! All he knew was that he had to get out of here right now. He wanted to take off his stupid dress and the hairpins and his mask and bury his face in his pillow. With a glance down at his hands, he saw the blue glimmer of the nail polish.

Ren had seen all of that. Aoba was _still_ looking at it. But Clear was - he was…

In a soft brush of black, Sei was leaning in to his field of vision. His beautiful black eyes gazed straight on to meet Clear’s as if having a whole conversation with him with just his stare. By the sting of his eyes, Clear thought Sei saw his budding tears as well. He half-feared Sei would address it, but then he said quietly, “Why don’t you come back to the apartment with me? You can change out of your clothes too.”

Oh. That was right, he’d left everything back in Sei’s room. Embarrassed to have forgotten that and for Sei to read his state so easily, but also relieved to be talked to so gently, Clear nodded.

When they got into the car, Aoba looked as though he hadn’t heard any of the conversation nor had seen how distressed Clear had been. That was good. Clear knew he was sensitive about how others perceived him, and Aoba had seen so much of his ugliness already - he didn’t want to add his childish insecurities on top of it.

Back at the apartment, he changed back into his baggy jeans and long sleeves. He gave the pins back to Sei and thanked him for his kindness. Sei told him with a smile that Clear could come over any time to do this again, and they wouldn’t have to leave the room anymore. Even though Clear answered that it sounded fun, he didn’t give a more definite yes or no. He didn't tell him what happened either.

It was really unfortunate and painful that his day had ended with so many bad feelings hitting him at once. The past days were so wonderful because he got to talk to so many people, and he knew he was getting closer to being allowed to consider them his friends. But because he was so selfish and deluded to think wearing what he wanted would solve anything, he created problems.

He had to see Ren for their planned practice tomorrow.

Noiz was in the room, more wires strewn about than ever, and he was deeply concentrated in - judging by his narrowed eyes and the presence of his headphones - his group project. A plastic fork was in his mouth, probably from the plate of pasta by his side.

Clear shoved his bag back into his closet and plopped himself down on his bed with a sigh. After kicking his shoes off, he tossed his blanket over himself so that he couldn’t be seen clutching and burying his face into his jellyfish pillow. His heart still ached and he still wished the fluffiness of his blanket was his body rather than this stained one that was no where near as slender and flawless like Sei’s.

Right next to his face, his phone chimed with a text message, but he didn’t move to answer it. It might be Sei, checking in on him, but Clear wanted to wallow a little more.

It could be Aoba. _Yeah, right_.

What if it was Ren, calling their meeting off? Clear’s bloodstream chilled. He looked at his phone, then reached to shove it in one of his drawers before curling up in bed again and closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seikuri tomodachis for lyfe. 
> 
> I think I've said this before, but I have plans in mind for Sei's character that I don't think I'll be able to fit in the fic. So he may or may not get his own one-shot, I'm not sure, we'll just have to see where this goes. (Noiz too, for that matter.)


	6. Track 06: Realize This Right Now, Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A song to listen to when you want to dance down the street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the chapter is a bit short this time around! I felt like Ren and Clear deserved their own chapter, and the other stuff can come later. I promise I'll try making the next chapter longer. I'm also sorry it took a while for me to update! I've been busy with the end of the semester orz Thank you for being patient with me though! Bonus thanks to Sammy for giving the idea of what instrument Ren would play~

At some point, Clear had woken up to eat some microwavable dinner, then took Noiz up on his offer to play videogames. It seemed he was reaching the end of his rope with his project and needed to kill things. Clear couldn’t refuse an opening to also let out some of his feelings via killing mutated zombies. They passed over three hours that way, too focused on the game to say much to each other beyond instructions. Even when they went to bed, Clear kept hearing the sounds of the game in his sleep.

The next day, he was reading his volumes of _Princess Jellyfish_ for maybe the twenty-sixth time while Noiz was out. He could feel his mood lift slowly but surely from his low spirits of the previous day as he read about his favorite characters, and he even perked up when he heard the muffled singing of Sambomaster from his drawer.

Without looking, he fished his phone out and answered with a smile, still reading. “Hello?”

“Ah - Clear?”

Clear frowned, putting his manga down. The deep voice felt familiar to him, but the slight distortion from the phone made it just hard enough to place. “Yes?”

There was a tiny bit of pause, then, “It’s Ren.”

For some odd reason, Clear’s first instinct wasn’t to hang up. He gulped, feeling hot under his scarf. The last thing he’d done with Ren was run away from him. Ren had seen him in a dress.

Voice a lot quieter, he said, “Ah hello, Ren.”

“I’ve sent several texts. But maybe they didn’t go through. So I called.” A bated breath. “I’m sorry if you’re busy.”

“Oh. Oh no, not at all! I’m sorry, I,” he bit his lip, “I misplaced my phone yesterday.”

“I see.”

It didn’t sound like Ren was particularly angry or bothered. Clear supposed that wouldn’t be like the mild-mannered Ren. That at least was a relief. Clear relaxed a little, testing the waters to see if the bridge of their relationship was still intact. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

“Ah,” Ren sounded a bit surprised, but then his words got slightly rushed like they did when he was flustered and anxious, “I thought we would be meeting today to practice the duet. But if you forgot, that is fine as well.”

“Oh, that!” Clear straightened up. He hadn’t forgotten at all of course, but he also hadn’t realized that would obviously be the reason that Ren would try contacting him. “Yes, I’m sorry. You can still come over! If you - want to.” He didn’t mean to let the insecurity slip but he had to be sure that Ren still liked him and wanted to be around him.

Miracle of all miracles, there was the warm crackle of Ren’s laugh on the other line. “Yes,” he said, sounding like he was smiling. “That is, I am in great need of your pointers, right?”

The corners of Clear’s lips tugged up in a shy smile. “I’ll do my best to teach you.”

“Alright. I’ll be over in an hour, if that suits you.”

“That works!”

Another, quieter laugh. After a thick pause in which Clear thought he’d say more, Ren gave a terse “goodbye” then hung up. Clear continued smiling, then got up to tidy around a bit. He wondered if Noiz remembered Ren needing to come over and if that was the reason he had gone out. That was good because he wouldn’t be here to question why Clear was putting his mask on.

As promised, an hour later there was a knock at the door.

“Hello!” Clear answered with a smile Ren of course wouldn’t be able to see.

Although he wasn’t sure what kind of expression he’d expected Ren to be wearing, it was a relief nonetheless to have the smile reciprocated, if a bit shyly. Ren stepped in, hugging a binder close to his chest as he stood in the middle of the room as Clear locked up again (Noiz insisted this to always be done to ward off all Katherines).

Ren glanced from the web of wires and bareness of Noiz’s walls to the pastel decorations on Clear’s, with shelved manga and hung jellyfish weather charms. The corner of his lips quirked up. “Those are cute.”

“Do you think so? I made them with my grandpa when I was little. But I made more over the years and got better - but that’s why the one on the end looks funny.” Clear looked over at its unraveling smile and missing eye, the fabric cut unevenly. He loved it nonetheless, of course. All his jellyfish were precious to him. “Ah yes, but this is my side of the room.”

Ren gave the weather charms another appreciative glance then took a seat not on the bed but on the chair to Clear’s desk. Clear thought the gesture was more polite than Ren trying to avoid him. Maybe he’d been worried for nothing.

When he started going through his backpack to look for the script, Ren took a sharp inhale, like he was preparing to say something. Clear looked up just in time to see his lips clamp shut.

“Is something wrong?”

Ren didn’t look at him. “No. It’s nothing.”

The knot in Clear’s stomach returned, but he tried to brush it off. “Have you done any vocal exercises yet?”

“Vocal exercises?” The term sounded foreign to Ren.

Clear blinked. “Yes. What we do in class?” When Ren only continued to look down at the floor, unsure, Clear shifted a little closer. “Do you not do those? I suppose that’s okay. I personally just like it, and so it’s habit to me by now.”

The binder Ren brought was still laying loosely on his chest, and his hands clutching it tapped violently on the hard surface for a second. Clear noticed that sometimes Ren’s hands acted in spasms like that. At first he thought it was a nervous habit, but Ren would always frown and give his wrists impatient waves, as if trying to shake off something from his hands.

“Sorry,” was all he said, holding the binder more firmly than before. “It probably should be a habit for me to develop as well. I really am not a very good singer.”

“No, no, really! You aren’t bad just because of something like this!”

But Ren shook his head. “Singing is second to me in the first place, truthfully. I originally came to this academy because of my baritone playing.”

Clear tilted his head. “Baritone…? Isn’t that like what you’re doing now?”

A small spark of pink filled Ren’s cheeks, as if just realizing his poor explanation. “No, not the vocal one. I mean the baritone horn. You can think of it similar to the trumpet and such.” He held his hands up and did some miming motions like that would help Clear visualize it.

It didn’t take long for Clear’s eyes to go wide with wonder and awe. “Ren! You never mentioned that you could play an instrument!”

Oops, he came off too strong again. Ren was alarmed for a second, but then he was blushing harder than before from the attention. “I’m sorry, it never came up. But it’s what I play and have more experience with than singing.”

“Why are you taking music theatre then?”

Ren shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ve been complimented before about my voice. Although upon coming here, I’m not quite sure that I measure up to anyone else. I’m certainly not as experienced as you.”

Now it was Clear’s turn to get embarrassed from attention. “Well,” he tucked some hair behind his ear, smiling, “that’s why we’re going to practice together. Although I would love to hear you play your horn one day!”

Ren bit back a smile, nodding a bit. “Maybe one day. I’m not as good as I used to be.” Without delving any further, he asked, “Would you like to do some warm ups then?”

Since they’d always done vocal exercises as a class, Clear didn’t realize how unused to it Ren was about it until they were alone. But once he got over how ridiculous some of the vocalizations sounded, he was laughing at the animated way Clear sang out his warm ups. It seemed to work in loosening up Ren at any rate, which Clear was grateful for. By the time they actually started practicing their duet along with the karaoke track that Clear found on youtube, Clear was feeling very upbeat as he sang to Ren.

That was when he noticed though that although Ren was singing with more emotion, he was still just sitting there stiffly in his seat. His lips were the only things that were moving, while Clear was standing up, actually singing to Ren.

When Clear wasn’t picking up on his part when Ren’s line ended, he looked up. “Is something wrong?”

Humming, Clear finally clapped his hands. “Okay, Ren, get up.”

“Oh, uh…” Ren got to his feet, looking awkward.

Clear laughed and brought Ren closer, stringing him along by holding his wrists. “Liiiiittle bit closer.”

“What are we doing?”

“You’ve seen RENT, right? It’s like I was telling you before. This song is meant to be energetic, and warm. We have to really sing to each other, and I think this will help.” Clear leaned down to start the music over, and he gave an encouraging smile to the nervous Ren. Like being the lead to a waltz, Clear swayed in gentle prompt to Ren, letting the music cascade fluidly over him.

“ _Live in my house, I’ll be your shelter_  
_Just pay me back with one thousand kisses_  
_Be my lover, I’ll cover you_ …”

Through a shy smile that showed his canines, Ren sang his verse, obviously embarrassed, but with a few nudges of Clear’s hip on his, and his hands trying to get Ren’s body moving, they were both swaying against the other.

Clear grinned, nodding in encouragement as Ren started to shuffle his feet around. When their shared verses came, their voices blending together in such a harmonious way, Clear felt so light and happy that he couldn’t resist spinning himself in Ren’s arms, their bodies pressing tenderly together with each crescendo. He could feel the surprise in Ren’s hold, but then he embraced Clear warmly, closer than anyone had ever been to Clear before. Ren was a little bit shorter than him, but when he looked over, Ren’s eyes were shining.

“ _I’ve longed to discover something as true as this is_  
 _So with a thousand kisses, I’ll cover you_  
 _(If you’re cold and lonely)_  
 _With a thousand sweet kisses, I’ll cover you_  
_(You’ve got one nickel only)_

 _With a thousand sweet kisses, I’ll cover you_  
_(When you’re worn out and tired)_  
_With a thousand sweet kisses, I’ll cover you_  
_(When your heart has expired…)_ ”

When spun to face away from Ren again, Clear reached up and slipped his mask down, closing his eyes and falling into step with each rise and fall of the melody dancing along with them.

“ _Oh lover, I’ll cover you, yeah!_  
_Oh lover,_  
_I’ll cover you_ …”

Quiet filled the room again as the last note faded from their lips, and the music ended. At the same time, warmth flooded Clear’s cheeks, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he was happy, or because of the total exertion he hadn’t been expecting. He suspected that it was possibly both, and he gave a little laugh that had Ren stirring behind him, his arms still around Clear. Ren seemed to take it the wrong way though, and jumped.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He let go at once, taking a step back. Clear used the time to lift his mask back up and turn to Ren.

He laughed again. “See? That was fun, right?”

After a moment, Ren gave a nod, letting out a chuckle too. “Yes. It was.”

* * *

They ended up practicing like that twice more before Clear suspected Ren’s stamina of running out, and instead proposed that they have an early dinner together down in the dorm’s cafeteria. Pleased with their progress and basking happily in the afterglow of their practice, Clear hardly noticed the press of Ren’s lips when they sat across from each other in a corner booth. 

He ate the same way he always did in public, pulling his mask down enough to take a bite before bringing it back up. It was reflex by now. Halfway through tearing apart his sub however, Clear saw that Ren’s food was untouched. “Ren? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” He took his fork and started gathering up some of the pasta salad he got. Even still though, he only took tiny bites, which didn’t match how long he continued chewing.

Clear didn’t understand the change in behavior. Had he done something wrong? Or maybe Ren was finally out of energy and was feeling anxious again. Attempting to lighten the mood, Clear leaned in with a smile. “You did really great, you know! I think you’ve definitely gotten better performing.”

“Th-thank you. I hope I’m still able to do that in front of the class, though…” Just as quick as he’d perked up, Ren’s shoulders drooped again.

“I’m sure you will!” Clear quickly reassured. “And I’ll be with you, so you won’t be by yourself up there. We’ll be together.”

At first, Ren looked surprised at the sincere gesture, mouth gaping, but then his expression softened, making his handsome and naturally kind features stand out again. “You seem so comfortable performing. Confident. You make a good Angel.”

“Uwahh no way, I’m no where near as confident about myself as she is,” Clear said, feeling the embarrassed blush sting his cheeks.

After a moment, Ren got that tight-lipped look again. Clear tried to guess what it might be, but the only thing he could think of for the reason Ren would be so uncomfortable was… But Clear didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to bring up the bad feelings again, especially after such a fun afternoon. If he didn’t say it now though, then he doubted Ren ever would. Ren was far too nice to ridicule him to his face, and that alone was enough to prompt Clear forward, if just to unburden the both of them.

He pushed his plate to the side. “Ren… You saw me yesterday, didn’t you?”

“...Yes. I did.”

 _He’s not even refusing it_. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I don’t dress like that a lot, and I promise I won’t have things like that on around you. That is, I doubt I’ll ever look like that in public again, because that was the first time I did that and…” Clear tried to get back on track, staring down at Ren’s hands. They twitched again, briefly. Looking at his own hands, Clear realized belatedly that he still had the blue nailpolish painted on him. He quickly put his hands under the table. “A-anyway, I’m sorry. I won’t dress like that again.”

There it was again. Even though Clear thought by saying it first, he’d be saving himself some pain, it still wrenched his heart around to say the words, and have the apologies come so profusely. Not that there was any other option. He was a freak, and it was bad enough that he had this mask and his skin - apologizing for crossdressing was the least he could do. He just hoped that Ren would forgive him.

Ren remained silent. Clear thought to press him for an answer, but maybe he didn’t deserve one. That was fine. If Ren could forget it, then so could Clear. But when he bit slowly back into his sub, the bread was too heavy on his tongue and too much of a chore to chew.

But then, “I don’t mind. About what you wore yesterday.”

“Oh?” Clear’s voice was barely audible.

Ren nodded, looking more and more certain in his words. “That is, you ran away and looked… But please don’t worry. I don’t mind it, and neither will I tell anyone if you wish me not to.”

It was Clear’s turn to suck in his breath. “Then the dress… Seeing me in clothing like that doesn’t--” _Make you think I’m a freak?_ “--make you uncomfortable?”

“No. I have no reason to be. It was a bit strange since it was the first I’d seen of it, but,” he offered a smile, “you’re kind to me. We became friends before this, and so it doesn’t make sense to dislike you because of this.”

 _Th-thump_. Oh. Wow. Was that the first time he was told words like this? Sei had been kind to him too of course, and Aoba and Mizuki as well, once they all had seen him in his dress. But to hear it from Ren, who had a hard time saying anything, it felt like his words were sending blossoms of the deepest reassurance inside Clear’s heart. It was strange, but wonderful. And Clear could only blink, his eyes growing wide.

That seemed to send Ren on full-on Fluster Mode though. “W-we _are_ friends…? So please, do whatever you’d like. If it makes you happy, I couldn’t be against it. Moreover…”

“Yes?”

Ren’s eyes darted around, looking so much like a big, nervous dog. It was so cute. He cleared his throat, then shook his head. “I’m sorry for not clearing up the misunderstanding before. Was that per chance why you didn’t text me back?”

Remembering hiding his phone away in his drawer, Clear felt almost silly for doing that in the face of Ren's genuine concern. “Oh. Um, yes. I’m sorry.”

Ren shook his head to show it was alright. They returned to their lunch for a little while until Ren glanced up again. "May I ask one more thing though?"

Clear almost wanted to laugh at how suddenly talkative Ren was being today. Of course, he didn't dislike it in the slightest, because he felt like they were getting closer now. Brightened up by this, he nodded immediately to the question. "Sure!" 

"Yesterday, when I saw you, you were with two other people..." 

Understanding where Ren was getting at, Clear nodded again. "Oh yes, Sei and Aoba." 

"Aoba Seragaki?" Ren ventured.

"Yes! Do you know him?"

Ren looked off to the side, some sort of invisible memories playing before him. "Yeah. From a long time ago. That is, it was a really short time, but still..." Ren's cheeks grew redder and redder with each word. 

"Were you friends? If you know him, we should all hang out together! I'm sure Aoba will be happy to see you." 

That seemed hard for Ren to believe. "No. It was a few years back. I-I don't think he'd remember me." 

Oh. Clear knew that feeling. It was all that swam through his head yesterday along with the self-hatred of being someone that couldn't make bonds with anyone. It'd been intense, growing with each shot to a zombie he delivered. But now here Clear sat with Ren, who had given him words of not only acceptance but also friendship. He'd said it himself, they were friends. Despite that, there was now the resurface of the feelings of possibly being someone forgotten by a person who meant so much to Clear.

That wasn't something Clear could totally confirm though. With Ren though, he could talk to Aoba again. If they used to know each other, then why shouldn't they get the opportunity to reunite and become friends again? At least one of them deserved to have that. 

With that in mind, Clear shook his head. "You don't know that. Besides, you two could build something up again. It's better to see him again, don't you think?" 

"M-maybe." 

"Yes, it would! I can ask Aoba and Sei and Mizuki if they want to get together, and you can come too."

"You'd - you'd do that?" 

Clear nodded encouragingly. "Of course!" _Because you're right, we_ are _friends_. "It'll be fun, Ren."

Ren hummed, considering. It seemed like the statement echoed back to what Clear had said after they danced and sang together. It had taken work at first to get Ren loosened up, but his laughter afterward was genuine. Wouldn't it be nice if times like that kept going? Wouldn't it be great if more people could see that handsome smile Ren had? That was what Clear thought, anyway. 

And soon, that upward tug of lips returned to Ren's face. 

"Right?" Clear prompted with a giggle.

Ren laughed too. "Right. Thank you, Clear."

"Anytime~!" 

The rest of the hour was spent finishing up their lunch before Ren had to return to his room to start up on homework. They parted on a good note, with a brief hug and wide smiles. The approach of performing their duet together seemed something less and less scary now, knowing he had a friend to support and support him as well. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [anime protag voice] MY FRIENDS ARE MY POWER.
> 
> (I can't wait to get rid of Clear's mask, I like always forget about its existence, ugh.)


	7. Track 07: Still Waiting To Be Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A song to listen to when you're surrounded by jilted lovers and the drag of traffic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, guys! I'm sorry again for how long I'm taking to update, but if you're somehow bearing with me, then I appreciate it a lot. I'm not quite sure when regular updates will return from the war, but I still hope you're enjoying the fic. Slowly but surely the line of events are revealing itself to me. On that note, yaaaay, Clearenao are finally in the same room!! It only took seven chapters so... I guess we'll wait seven more chapters for anything else to happen (I'm joking). 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy *bows*

A few days later, Clear and Ren sat together in the near-darkness in the theater, waiting for their director to call for their duet. Before the period started, Clear tried to joke in hushed tones about how nervous he was, but Ren only nodded quickly in frantic affirmation that showed he too was getting very anxious, and very fast.  
  
That got Clear concerned. It would be the first time he had so many eyes focused on him too. Their practices had made Clear more sure of himself than he ever had been, and now he was almost eager to show off how well he and Ren sounded together, and how wonderful Ren’s voice was when someone could actually listen to him. But the twist of his lips and jerk of his hands under his desk were too telling of Ren not doing well in staying calm, and it was only getting worse with each pair of partners that completed their duets.  
  
_Of course his nerves aren't going to just disappear_. Clear reached out and squeezed one of Ren's hands.  
  
Ren started, looking down at their linked hands, then to Clear in question.  
  
"It's going to be fine. I'm going to be there too. Let's just pretend we're still having fun in my room, okay?"  
  
If Ren was embarrassed by the gesture, he didn't show it. Quite the opposite, he slowly and visibly relaxed. His hands stopped twitching and laid heavily on his lap. Finally, he nodded.  
  
"Okay." He worried his lip, then awkwardly, he asked, "Are we going to have to dance like before though?"  
  
"Hahaha, not if you don’t want to."  
  
"Are you going to dance?"  
  
"Dancing is probably going to relax me, but it'll be kind of silly if only I do it, right?" Clear laughed, hoping to get Ren grinning too, but their pep talk was closed when claps sounded at the performing duet's end.  
  
After the die-down, their director, Ms. Yoshie, checked her clipboard. "Alright~! Clear, Ren, are you two ready?"  
  
Even though Clear wished to keep Ren calm with holding hands, Ren was the first to break away. They stood up and headed to the front of their class. Some of the more bold partners had dressed up as their characters, and that morning Clear too had briefly considered the notion of pulling on his favorite skirt. But no, he wasn't ready for that yet. Not even to give the impression of a costume.  
  
Standing in front of everyone right then though, he felt like he could've used the confidence boost. Or maybe he still would've felt judged. The mask on his face alienated him enough, but at least it hid his self-conscious blush. Now wasn't the time though to worry about himself though! Ren needed him to be confident! The poor guy was only staring at his shoes in deep concentration as Clear readied their track on the laptop.  
  
The familiar beats thrummed through the awkward silence, everyone's eyes up on them. Clear could see them glimmering faintly in the darkness of the theater – all the lights were being shone on Ren and Clear. It was dark enough to pretend as if no one was there, just like when Clear first came in and sang – that was, before Aoba caught him.  
  
His throat closed a bit at the memory. The nervous flutter of his heart was something he wasn’t sure to pin on the ghost of embarrassment or Aoba himself. And while it probably wasn’t the best time to think of anything that could give him any more jitters, the last coherent thing in Clear’s mind before he started singing was of Aoba, sitting in front of him in class, hazel eyes gazing up at his face.  
  
As expected, it was awkward just standing there and singing. Clear swayed slightly, trying to get the beat into him in its natural flow. Admittedly, it was impossible for him not to. Years of dancing around in his room conditioned him to hardly sit still once he felt the music in him. He must’ve looked silly now. But then he looked to his left, and saw that Ren too was rocking his head from side to side. At first his movements were so minute that no one would possibly notice, but then he glanced over at Clear, sang _to_ Clear, and they both broke into a smile.  
  
His words from earlier seemed to be taken to heart. Ren sang and danced with Clear just like before, albeit he was a bit more reserved in his movements. That was alright. The timbre of his voice still carried in the room flawlessly, and he was holding Clear's hand as he twirled him around. He never took his eyes off from Clear, as if he was Ren’s center, and they were once again just practicing in the privacy of his room.  
  
_This is so much fun_ , thought Clear blissfully.  
  
With the final echo of their last note fading out into the warm darkness, the class started clapping and cheering. Sure, they had reacted just the same with everyone else, but the positive feedback was nonetheless full of meaning for Clear, who hadn’t felt like this in years. Judging by his bashful smile, Ren felt the same. The two quickly shuffled offstage, basking in their triumph and trying to calm down their heavily beating hearts for the remainder of class.  
  
But the victory didn't last long.  
  
The bell rang out in the hallways, and the class packed up and made their way out of the auditorium. Clear was following Ren when Ms. Yoshie called for him where she sat in the front row.  
  
Ren raised his brows when they exchanged looks. “Shall I wait for you?”  
  
“Oh no, it’s fine! I’ll see you later, Ren!” Clear gave him an energetic wave before skipping down the steps to Ms. Yoshie. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”  
  
The good mood Clear was in tentatively started to float away from him as he took in his director’s rather serious expression, as if it was uncertain that its presence was appropriate or not. But quickly, his nerves took over, making him pick at the fuzzballs on his scarf.  
  
“Clear,” she began, her brows furrowed in worry, “you know I had to give you a lower grade on your performance today! You really hurt you and Ren by wearing that mask. Is there a special reason that you’ve always had it on? You haven’t presented to me a doctor’s note or anything of that sort.”  
  
She unleashed all her arsenal at once that Clear was shaky in trying to think up a response. Where did he start? He messed up? After all the practice and trying to cheer Ren on so that finally they could sing together today as joyously as they did – only for him to have ruined it? His head kickstarted again to fumble for a reply.  
  
“I-I… No, ma’am.”  
  
“No what?”  
  
“There’s no special reason I wear this.”  
  
“Well, from now on, when you’re performing, you’re going to have to take it off. It’s hindering your singing capabilities.” She said it in a well-meaning tone. Clear knew that, because Mink had said the same to him earlier too. But singing in front of a single teacher who had no interest in Clear’s appearance wasn’t the same as doing it in front of a bunch of people his age, the time when appearance was still everything.  
  
There was no way he could do anything but agree though. “I’m sorry. I’ll do that next time. But…can you take marks just off my grade and not Ren’s? It’s not his fault I wore this.”  
  
Ms. Yoshie sat back, and nodded. “Alright. But next time you have that on, you’ll be bringing yourself and your partner down.” Her expression softened. “I’m not saying this to be mean. I just don’t want anything holding you back from getting better! If you keep that on, what are you accomplishing here? Right?”  
  
Clear nodded mutely.  
  
“Alright. You can run along now. I’ll see you next class, Clear~!”  
  
Her tone had gone back to that over-affectionate lilt it always had, signaling that Ms. Yoshie had moved on from the conversation, leaving Clear’s stinging feelings behind. He responded just as happily anyway, and managed to keep up his chipper façade all through the walk back to his dorm.  
  
There was homework to be done for his composition class, but Clear shoved it to the side in favor of messing around on his laptop, trying to get his mind off things by listening to music and reading manga online. Except shojo manga was never a good idea to read when one was feeling low, because the turmoil of the characters kept kindling a sympathetic flame inside Clear, no matter how different his situation was. If anything, it just amplified his miserable feelings and in the end he decided just to close the window as he got up to look at himself in the mirror.  
  
His mask was on still, but he quickly ripped it off, angrily, and stuffed it in his drawer. Then turning on the light overhead, he leaned in to examine his reflection, glaring at the same old flaws. His chin was too prominent, something the twins always blamed on their father’s genes. The curve of his nose was a little too feminine in his opinion, but if he looked at it together with his pink eyes, then he thought he looked okay. Reasonably attractive even, he dared to venture. He brought his hand up to cover the right side of his face. He could be good-looking, probably, if he could just get rid of his discolorations. Again, he contemplated the possibility of just buying make up to conceal the white patches. Then he could look normal. He could be someone people could be attracted to. He could be someone that could catch Aoba’s eye.  
  
_Even though he called me cute in a dress. Was he just being nice?_ Clear squished his face together, noticing the extra plushness in his cheeks. There was some on his stomach and thighs too, come to think of it. He wasn’t a roly-poly, but he wasn’t exactly sporting muscles like, say, Ren did, or scrawny like Noiz. _If I get a white dress, I could be a marshmallow_. He thought of Aoba reassuring him that he was a _cute_ marshmallow and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.  
  
Noiz came into the room, blasting some music from his headphones and rendering Clear’s greeting meaningless. He did give an offhanded wave, which, to Clear, was progress. His phone chimed with a text message, and Clear forgot about marshmallows for the time being to crawl back on his bed.  
  
It was from Aoba. That was a surprise, as Clear had been mostly texting Sei. A hot flush crawled up Clear’s face – was it because he’d just been thinking of Aoba just now? What if Aoba could suddenly read his thoughts?  
  
_Hey I've got no more classes for the day. Do you want to go get something to eat with us now if you’re free?_  
  
“Us” implied Sei and Mizuki. All of them had other friends as far as Clear knew, but he never really saw them. Some stopped to say hi to one of them if they saw each other on campus, but when it came to hanging out together, Clear was the only one invited as well. That was okay with him, since he enjoyed their company the most.   
  
“Noiz. Noiiiiz!” Clear waved his hands to get his roommate’s attention.  
  
And he did, albeit met with a scowl. “ _What?_ ”  
  
“I’m about to go out to get food with some friends, would you like to come?”  
  
Noiz raised his brows, apparently amused – either by the invitation or the fact that Clear had friends. Finally, he shrugged. “It’s whatever. I could go for something.”  
  
“Okay! I’ll tell them you’re coming~!” In the middle of typing his response however, Clear remembered Ren, and the agreement that Clear would get him together with Aoba again. In retrospect, he should probably tell Aoba before saying anything that he wanted to bring more friends, but Clear couldn’t see him disagreeing. Besides, after nearly being responsible for dropping Ren's grade on their duet, he figured he owed him this much.  
  
He switched to composing a text to Ren. _re_ _n-ren! would you like to go out to eat? aoba will be there! (≧∇≦*)_ He wasn’t exactly sure where Ren was at the moment, but he was pleased when he got a response only a minute later.  
  
_At what time? I will be done with class in a few minutes_.  
  
Ren’s polite and almost rigid way of speaking seeped even in his texts. Clear couldn’t help but be amused by it. _w_ _e can go as soon as you get out if that’s suitable! also for shame ren, texting in class! 」(￣▽￣」)_  He giggled at picturing Ren’s flustered face.  
  
His words must’ve been taken on a literal level as Ren replied with, _Alright. And I’m sorry. I don’t text often and thought a prompt reply would be appropriate_.  
  
_don’t be sorry! but now that I know I can text you in class, I will abuse this power! Ψ(ﾟ∀ﾟ )Ψ_  After a second, he added, _okay but I don’t want you to actually get in trouble though_.  
  
_Typing under my desk is indeed very difficult_.  
  
_ok ok pay attention then! come to my room afterwards! ∩( ・ω・)∩_  Clear then turned back to his message to Aoba and agreed to the outing, and asking if he could bring two friends (even though he already invited them).  
  
Aoba replied in the affirmative. They were going to go out to the Thai place at the corner of the campus grounds. In less than ten minutes, both Clear and Noiz were ready, with Clear tugging his mask on, albeit slower than usual. The ashamed feelings welled inside him again to wear it, but at the same time he had no idea what alternative he had where someone wouldn’t just _stare_ at him. He swallowed those feelings down like a thick medicine, just in time for Ren to arrive and the three made their way over to the restaurant.  
  
The place wasn’t far from the dorm and the small talk was mostly between Clear and Ren, as Noiz decided to bring his headphones and was walking with a disinterested slouch, thumbs playing with his beltloops. Clear was very certain Noiz was coming only for the food and not the socializing. Even so, he thought maybe if Noiz was exposed to more people, he’d be more keen on opening up; Clear’s friends weren’t the annoying sort in his opinion.  
  
That gave Clear the time to give more attention to Ren though. Ren was looking down at the cement as they walked, focused on the scruffed tip of his shoes. Clear remembered doing that a lot as a kid; it was how he found all the shiny marbles or sparkly toy rings that would eventually grow to a larger kind of collection for sparkly and clear objects. But out here, the grounds were full of nothing but cigarettes and discarded gum wads.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t go out with others often, so these rare occasions make me rather nervous.” Ren said it quickly and straightforwardly, as if trying to dispel any further conversation. But Clear understood Ren wasn’t trying to push him away, and was instead trying to settle his bubbling fear. “Also,” he said, tugging at his long sleeves, “I’m still wondering if Aoba will really remember me or want to see me.”

Earlier, holding Ren’s hand seemed to have helped to calm him down. But that was in a dark theater. Clear wasn’t so sure if the gesture would be appropriate out in the open. He settled on reaching out to give a brief squeeze to his shoulder. “Well, you can’t assume anything until you see him. You want to see him, right?”

Ren only gave a noncommittal hum in return, but at least his feet were still moving forward.  
  
Aoba, Sei, and Mizuki were already there, and waved the other trio over to their table. Hardly a few steps into the rather dim space, Clear caught Aoba looking at Ren with a note of curiosity. Oblivious to this, Ren hesitated in his steps, invisible dog ears pointed up in alarm.

“Something wrong?”

“I...I thought it was just Aoba…”

Oh. Other people being there wasn’t pictured in Ren’s head when he was trying to make his decision to come to the restaurant. Clear led him along slowly. “Don’t worry. They’re all really, really nice. They’re my friends, so I promise they won’t bite.”

After a second, Ren nodded, and followed Clear in taking a seat down at the table. Meanwhile, that expression Aoba had put on at seeing Ren remained on his face even as they all sat down and Clear introduced both Noiz and Ren and how he knew them.

Immediately afterward, Aoba’s eyes lit up, the clarity practically glowing on him. “Ren!” he exclaimed. “You’re from the... We met before! I remember you had those younger siblings with you all the time!”  
  
The center of attention was landed on Ren, who had just settled down at a side of the table by Clear. His eyes widened at Aoba’s outburst, but Clear couldn’t have been more pleased with the reaction.  
  
“Yes!” Clear piped in. “I invited Ren because when I told him about all of you, he said he thought he might recognize you, Aoba.”  
  
Ren finally found his voice again, giving a soft smile to Aoba across the table. “It’s nice to see you again, Aoba,” he said. His voice was quiet as always, but the low pitch of it carried his words over, and he sounded relieved. Memories that Clear had no notion of were being exchanged in the air between Ren and Aoba, putting them in a separate world of their own reminiscence.  
  
Aoba too relaxed at Ren’s affirmation, his smile softening a bit. “It’s been so long. I know you told me that you played the baritone, but I never thought I’d see you again, and here too.” He leaned forward, eyes eager and focused. “How’ve you been?”  
  
“Ah, fine, thank you.”  
  
Aoba nodded, not off-put by Ren’s short response. Of course he wouldn’t. If he knew Ren from before, that meant he had to know his mannerisms by now, and Aoba just continued to welcome them with a grin. He nodded a bit in a private gesture as he said, “And your… You’re okay with everything? Still playing the baritone? Well, haha, you must be to be here, right?”  
  
The corner of Ren’s lips twitch upward a bit. “I’m fine. And I do still play. Aoba, you still sing?”  
  
“Yup! It’s the only way I got into this school.”  
  
“Are you still in Jerry Blaine?”  
  
“That old band I was in in high school?” Aoba laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “No, that kind of fell apart once we found out one of our guys was a drug dealer, and then everyone started thinking about where they’d go after we graduated… Well, Mizuki there still tries to convince me to join his own band, Dry Juice. Right now, I’m just solo though.”  
  
A soft smile tugged at Ren's lips, apparently pleased. “I see. I’m glad you still sing.” His words hung off the edge, as if wanting to comment that he was glad because Aoba was such a good singer. Clear had only heard it once before, but he still knew that much to hazard a guess what Ren's unspoken words.  
  
“But you know," Aoba started with a no-nonsense tone, "I sang for you! Don't think I forgot that you still owe me a private concert of your own playing too!”  
  
Ren ducked his head down slightly, but it couldn’t hide his embarrassed expression. “Maybe…”  
  
“Huhhh, what’s with that?” Aoba didn’t say it meanly, instead giving one of those huge grins he gave to Mizuki when they were teasing each other. He never gave such a carefree and joyous air around Clear before, or so he just noticed.  
  
The more the two of them talked, the more Clear realized he and the others were being put on another plane, where no one could really interrupt as Aoba and Ren were given some space to catch up. Clear didn’t know why the realization flustered him, but he still politely adverted his eyes and shut his ears to their conversation. But after the first orders came by their table, and Aoba was laughing about something Ren had said, the two of them were still very much in their own little world. There was no room for Clear to interject.  
  
“Hey, you’re pretty quiet,” Noiz suddenly said. His own quiet voice didn’t carry as well as Ren’s did, so it was enough that only Clear could hear, despite the fact that Noiz wasn’t exerting any effort to whisper. “I thought these were your friends?”  
  
Clear brightened up immediately. “They are!”  
  
“Why’re you sulking then?”  
  
Ah. Was that what he looked like? He hoped the slight plateau in his mood hadn’t shown. He laughed, a genuine one, because Noiz sounded concerned about him. Even if it wasn’t the case, he appreciated Noiz saying that all the same. “Sorry, I’m fine,” he finally said. “So do you like them?”  
  
“Who? These people?” Noiz shrugged. “They’re alright.”  
  
“Just alright?” Sei came into the conversation, lacing his gloved fingers under his chin. “You’re Clear’s roommate, right? Noiz, was it?”

“Who’s asking?”

Unperturbed by Noiz’s prickly attitude, Sei extended his hand in a graceful manner. “Sei Seragaki. I’m that one’s twin brother. This is Mizuki. So where are you from, Noiz?”

“That’s not important.”

“Oh! So you’re the mysterious type, huh? I didn’t think guys like you existed past high school.”

Clear nearly choked on his tofu. He didn’t know if it was out of surprise or laughter. Was Sei making fun of Noiz?

The jab wasn’t lost on him as Noiz narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t think guys like you existed either.”

“Like what?”

The gesture Noiz gave seemed to be directed to all of Sei - the sequined hairpins, the jewelry around his neck and the loose, light-pink dress hanging off his shoulders. It was probably one of Clear’s favorites, as he’d urged Sei to buy it after he sent a selfie of himself in it at the mall’s dressing room.

Sei didn’t seem at all offended with Noiz’s comment, and Clear couldn’t tell if that only made Noiz more irritated or not. Clear had never purposefully provoked him before, and for good reason. He didn’t want to end up the same as the guy Noiz got into fights with.

Mizuki chose that moment to slide into the conversation. “What’s up, Noiz? Did you only come here for the noodles and to check out Sei?”

The usual frown on Noiz’s brow deepened as he looked up from his plate. By the way he stared, that might’ve been the extent of his answer, and once again everyone was forced to play guessing games at what it was Noiz reacted to. Luckily, they were spared from further poking at the flames when Mizuki rounded on Aoba next to him. “Speaking of which, you two stop flirting!”

At once, the bubble of Aoba and Ren’s world popped, leaving the latter with a deer-caught-in-headlights expression and the former with a scowl. “Geez, Mizuki, do you have to interrupt everything like that?”

“I can’t help it, I get jealous when you hog your friend like that.”

“I admit, I’m sad too. I haven’t gotten to even say hi to Ren properly yet.” Sei put on one of his little pouts, tilting his head a bit. “Ren, you remember me too, right?”

Ren took interest in his drink, swirling the straw around rather animatedly. But he nodded, giving another polite smile in haste. “Yes. Sei. You came to visit Aoba sometimes.”

“That’s right.” Sei beamed at the statement, and that seemed to sate him. “Hey, so is anyone here against getting dessert?”

As Sei started talking to Ren and Aoba about possibilities for splitting something sweet (and even though no one was done with their meal yet, Clear couldn’t ever protest something with sugar in it), Mizuki turned his attention to Noiz again.

“Do you want any dessert?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, look at the menu, see if there’s anything you like. How about I treat you? You too, Clear. I wouldn’t mind.”

Noiz pressed against the back of his seat, like Mizuki’s offer had physically repelled him. “Why would you do that?”

Without missing a beat, Mizuki just shrugged. “I just want to be nice.”

Clear watched the exchange, chewing his bottom lip under his mask. The conversation he and Noiz had before about relationships being based on exchanges came to his mind. Maybe just because Mizuki had an offer, didn’t mean Noiz was eager to give anything in return. But if he just got to understanding that friendships weren’t about keeping tallies like that, then maybe he’d be less reluctant to get to know people. That was what Clear theorized anyway, and so he nodded at Mizuki’s offer.

“That's really nice of you! Let’s get something we can all share!” he proposed as a compromise.

Mizuki raised his eyebrows as he waited for Noiz’s answer to that, putting on an insistent grin. It was a charming expression, one that Clear was sure usually got people to get swayed towards Mizuki. And Noiz wasn’t impervious to it – not completely anyway.

He shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

In the end, Clear, Noiz, and Mizuki split a pleasantly cold bowl of ice cream while Aoba, Sei, and Ren poked their forks into a cake (they ultimately tossed the cake into the ice cream bath when Sei started taking bites from both). They continued their small talk, with Ren gradually able to look everyone in the face, Noiz asking if the teardrop tattoo Mizuki had meant he killed a man (he hadn’t – yet), and Clear excitedly telling the others of the duet he and Ren had just done.

When they finished up their food, Noiz starting to pick off the scraps from Clear’s plate, then Mizuki’s, close to two hours had passed. No one seemed particularly alarmed by this information, which meant everyone’s classes had probably ended for the day since the sun was gradually tumbling down from the sky. As they walked out of the restaurant, Mizuki launching into some story of his, the bleeding orange light glared at them from Oval Tower’s reflective surface. Clear squinted at it for one second before his attention was caught by Aoba walking in front of them.

“Alright, cool story, bro,” Aoba said to Mizuki, “but you just totally reminded me of something. Sei, I know you’ve been nagging at me to get a job, so guys, guess who’s going to be the evening DJ for the PJ’s radio station~?”

“You?” Sei guessed with a smile.

"Me," Aoba agreed with a slight bow. "I'll be starting tomorrow."

Clear clapped his hands together. “That’s wonderful, Aoba!”

“We have our own radio station?” Noiz muttered, loud enough that Clear heard.

Mizuki raised a brow. “Isn’t being a university DJ more of a,” he gestured, “ _volunteer_ kind of thing? How are you getting paid for that?”

“Mizuki, you ass! You just can’t stand for me to have this one thing?” Aoba scowled. They had reached the crosswalk, and in irritation, Aoba pressed the cross button at least fifteen times.

“I think it’s cool, Aoba,” Clear said. Maybe he could’ve offered a smile, had he actually taken off his mask.

But words seemed to work just as well. Aoba nodded in appreciation. “ _Thank you_. I’m glad someone is happy for me.”

Sighing in mock exhaustion, Mizuki clapped Aoba hard on the back. “Oh, you’re being melodramatic, you know I’m happy for you. So how soon am I going to have to expect hearing about high-grade monkeys out here?”

“If you’re insinuating I’ll be hooking my iPod up for you all to listen to,” the light turned red, and Aoba started to walk backwards onto the street, “then you would be absolutely correct. It’s about time you upgraded you music tastes, Mister Big Hits of 1987.”

Mizuki raised his brows. “You better watch it, those are fighting words.”

Beside him, Sei sighed, although he was smiling as he tucked some hair behind his ear. “Well, as long as you’re pleased with it, that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you.”

There was a murmur next to Clear, and he turned, realizing Ren had tried to say something. Sei had apparently picked up on it too, and tilted his head in question. “Did you say something, Ren?”

“Um, just – I hope you have fun, Aoba.” Ren said it in a rush, and with making eye-contact only with Aoba’s skinny jeans.

Aoba’s expression softened, his voice carrying a sincere tone to it when he thanked Ren. The smile on his face was cute, and actually a little lopsided. And once again, Clear was struck with the notion that he was seeing Sly’s smile. His heartstrings drew taut, tugging at his own heart as he had the thought.

That was when it hit him. Aoba had _recognized_ Ren. Ren was someone _important_ in his memories, and Ren had been the reason Aoba’s face had lit up so happily and had made him laugh and have a good time at the restaurant. Ren hadn’t held any hesitation in knowing who Aoba was, and he certainly wasn’t left alone like a pathetic idiot in a dim theater.

Ren and Aoba had found each other again. There was no reason why the two wouldn’t be seeing more of each other now. And Clear could sit at the same table, could maybe overhear something one of them say and smile, but it wouldn’t go noticed.

No one brought up the embarrassment of Clear’s first meeting with Aoba. And certainly no one was thinking of it. But it was the only thing pushing against Clear’s skull, beating its fists, and he had no idea why his body suddenly felt too small to hold his insides, his thoughts, all these words going in his head in muffled cacophony.

_It’s because no one wants a friend with a face like mine. As soon as possible, people must want to forget my face_.

“Yo, Aoba! Mizuki! Sei!”

A new voice rose over the crowd on the street. Clear didn’t realize they made it to the other side, but the newcomer jogging up to them caught his attention, curiosity overtaking the pounding fists. Beside him, Noiz looked especially alert – his shoulders weren’t hunched forward, and his eyes gleamed with interest.

The man was wearing black jeans and a red button-up. His hair was pretty long, longer than Sei’s but still holding that same silken sheen, even as it was tied back in a ponytail. But even the long bangs covering half of his face couldn’t hide the thick line of a scar going over the bridge of his nose. On the whole, he was actually quite handsome, and Clear's eyes roamed over him in interest.

Mizuki high-fived the newcomer. “ _Koujaku_ ,” he said with a wide grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I was actually on the way to start some extra lessons with a student."

Raising his brows, Aoba looked unamused. "So you do that kind of thing now, huh?" he asked in a sigh. 

Koujaku looked offended, almost childishly so as he started to pout at Aoba's comment. "What kind of thing? I don't know what you're trying to imply, but I'm a wholesome teacher. It's my job to make sure that my students are performing at their highest potential." 

"Is _that_ what they're calling it now?" Aoba shook his head. "You're just a perverted hippo." 

"You're a teacher?" Clear asked, astonished. Koujaku looked so young! Not many years older than Mizuki, at any rate. But he supposed he did sort of carry the air of a teacher, even if he was joking around with the others. 

Without giving Koujaku an opportunity to answer, Aoba nodded. "Shocking, right? They'll just let anyone educate their kids these days."

"Aoba, you're wounding me. Anyway, who are your friends here?" 

Sei decided to be the one to introduce them. "This is Clear, he's a freshman singer like Aoba. This is Ren, a baritone player. And this," he pointed, "is Noiz. You said he does synthesizing, right. Clear? I'm sure that's what it was. Well, watch out - he's _mysterious_."

Although Clear had been paying attention to what Sei said and was giggling a little at the teasing, both Koujaku and Noiz seemed to have tuned him out at some point. Koujaku was just staring at Noiz with such surprised, wide eyes that it was as if he'd seen some ghost and stopped breathing. Noiz continued to stand there though, a hint of a smirk on his face. 

"Yeah," was all he said, "I know him." 

Those words snapped Koujaku out of his daze as he shook his head. "Uh, yeah. Anyway, nice to see all of you." He put on a grin and waved, trying to weave his way around them in a path that completely avoided Noiz. 

But still, Noiz's hand shot out, gripping onto Koujaku's bicep easily. Clear was close enough to smell Koujaku's cologne, close enough to hear Noiz's words when he tugged Koujaku down to his level and whispered, " _Can you give me some more private lessons soon too, professor?_ "

Clear was probably the only one to catch it. After delivering his message, he let Koujaku go, and then casually turned to the others as if nothing had happened. Judging by the expressions on Aoba, Mizuki, and Sei's faces however, they were quite curious to know about what just transpired. Honestly, Clear did too. Did Koujaku teach one of Noiz's classes? But that closeness, their whole interaction... Clear could suspect, but he wasn't sure if he could draw any definite conclusion from something he'd never seen before.

In the end, Noiz chose to ignore everyone's interested looks, denying their expectations as he started moving down the street. 

"Noiz?" Clear called. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the room," was all he answered with, without even turning around. 

After exchanging unsure looks with the others, Clear decided he should probably leave too to attend to that composition homework. Ren followed along quickly, and Clear suspected that he hadn't quite reached the level yet that he could hang out with the others without getting jittery. That was fine with Clear, who felt kind of proud that Ren was more comfortable with him. 

Somehow, Noiz already got lost in the crowd, but Clear and Ren were in no hurry, simply walking back to the dorms side by side. 

Finally, Ren asked, "What happened back there?"

Clear could only shrug in reply. Although he wasn't completely sure, he could only think of that flash of anger in Koujaku's eyes when Noiz grabbed him, the twist of his lips that was almost like some snarl. He seemed like a different person entirely, but Noiz met it casually, as expected. As a matter of fact, he provoked whatever fired he stirred up, tossing a bottle of fluid in there. It was apparent when Koujaku all but jerked his arm back half a second before Noiz let him go.

The "friend" Noiz talked about before, the one that apparently had some sort of reputation to keep, a professional one - that was likely Koujaku, wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planning this series out, I knew there was going to be a lot of angst, I just didn't realize it'd be coming nearly every chapter. I hope I'm not bumming anyone out with it orz I promise fluffy times are still on the horizon because. I mean, come on, it's Clearenao. It's gonna be fucking fluffy soon. Also get attacked by the Noijakus I finally get to include in here, unf.
> 
> Drop a comment if you enjoyed it, goodness knows my creative spirit loves being fed. 
> 
> Follow me on my tumblr (clears-jellyfish-dress) or twitter (@fuwajellyfish) for more gay yelling and having a greater chance for knowing when the heck I'll update stuffs.

**Author's Note:**

> SO YEA no Aob or Ren yet, but they'll be here, fret not. This was just the intro stuffs mostly, although I should say this is gonna be hella slowbuild. Please stick with me though orz The summary might still be tinkered with but if it still managed to get your attention then yay!
> 
> I don't think there's much to say here, but thank you for reading, and I hope you like it so far! -bows-


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